


Back To The Past (REVAMPED)

by DarylWillFightNatureForCarol (Befrie08)



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape, Caryl, Character Death in First Chapter Is Temporary, Explicit Language, F/M, Fix It, Like really slow, Repost of story with improvements and edits, Season 10 Back To Season 1, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Two Sets of Caryl, canon typical violence and gore, domestic abuse, dont worry!, redemption fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 77,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Befrie08/pseuds/DarylWillFightNatureForCarol
Summary: Carol loses her life tragically in the cave while Daryl watches helplessly. He grieves her, not knowing how to go on.Hope comes in the form of something unexpected.Time travel.He goes back, determined to save her.But then, he realises he could change other things too. Save people long ago dead.This story was originally posted as Back To The Past under the author Befrie08. I am uploading this as a new story under my tumblr name.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Carol Peletier, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Comments: 88
Kudos: 104





	1. Is This Really The End?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Welcome to the new and (hopefully) improved version of Back To The Past.
> 
> First of all, I want to thank everyone who has given me support and encouragement on Tumblr. It means a lot. Sometimes I get so deep in my head and I feel like what I'm putting out isn't good enough. Your words help more than you probably think. 
> 
> I chose to upload this new and improved run as a completely separate story simply because, with the changes I've made, it kind of changes the tone of the whole story. A lot of it will be similar though. Mainly I've ironed out a lot of stuff that seemed confusing. I've also fleshed things out a bit where before it was just a passing mentions. 
> 
> I'm a little nervous to post this all over again, anew, but I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> I don't like begging for reviews but I would love to hear your thoughts, especially if you've read the other version of this. I'll appreciate anything you've got to say, even if it's just to say you liked it or you hated it, if that's the case. 
> 
> By the way, I should mention something about this chapter. Like I said above, I've fleshed out a lot of stuff that was only briefly mention in the original. One of those moments is Carol's demise. I received a lot of reviews on the first version of this that were quite disturbed by the scene. This time around, I've actually gone into a lot more detail. 
> 
> If you're disturbed by mentions of gore, blood etc and/or reading about a character you love, suffering in such a way, I will put a marker in the chapter where you should stop reading. I will put a brief description of the events in the end notes for people who would rather not read it. 
> 
> I know we watch a pretty gory show but there are some who are more sensitive than others. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys like what I've done.

  
The group had been stuck in the cave for hours. The growls and groans of walkers had faded into background noise at this point.   
Daryl sat with his back against the cave wall. He watched the writhing dead bodies in silence. His fingers toyed with a piece of stone.   
Carol sat to his left, sneaking glances at him. She probably thought he didn't notice. But he did. He noticed everything about her.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said, breaking the quiet. 

Daryl sighed and turned to look at her. 

“I know,” was all he said. Because what else could he say? 

He knew she hadn't meant for this to happen and he didn't blame her for it either. But that didn't mean he wasn't a little ticked off.   
She'd told him that she'd try. That she would stop running off, half cocked, to try to take out Alpha alone. And she'd done exactly the opposite. 

“This has gotta stop,” Daryl told her, pushing the thoughts away.

Carol looked down. When she looked back up, there were tears brimming in her eyes.

“I know,” she answered. She sucked in a breath. “It’s just, every time I see her or think about her, this rage takes over me." 

Daryl nodded. 

“I get it," he assured her. "But it’s not worth it. Not if it keeps putting us in danger."

Carol was silent as she watched him. 

“We fight for our future. We don’t fight for revenge," he finished, with a meaningful look. 

Carol nodded and then turned her head away. Daryl sighed at her half hearted response. 

He didn't know how to help her. He'd tried talking to her. Offered to let her tell him what she needed. He'd tried to assure her that Alpha would get what's coming to her. None of it had worked. She seemed content to shut him out and most of time she felt a million miles away. 

Daryl knew what she was doing. She wanted him to stop caring about her. So she could go off and do what she felt she needed to without worrying that something would happen to him. Because she knew he would follow her. But Daryl wasn't going to let her push him away. He wouldn't give up on her. Not now, not ever.

Carol stood, startling him from his thoughts. He looked up at her, immediately worried. 

“I've got an idea,” she announced, loud enough for everyone else to hear. 

Jerry, Aaron, Magna, Connie and Kelly were sitting scattered around the ledge. They all held expressions of exhaustion and defeat. They turned their heads in interest. 

Aaron was the first to move, lifting himself up and walking over. After a beat, the rest followed. Daryl got to his feet, tossing the stone aside. 

“If I can draw the walkers’ attention," Carol started, "You could have a pretty good chance of making it out. There's bound to be an exit around here." 

Daryl's stomach twisted as he listened to Carol explain her 'plan'. 

“What do you mean by ‘distraction’?” he interrogated, searching her face. 

Carol looked down at her feet before meeting his gaze once more.

“It’s my fault you’re all in here. It should be me.” 

Daryl's chest became tight, like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. 

“That’s bullshit," he said, his words coming out harsher than he'd intended. His panic was getting the better of him. "We’ll find another way." 

Carol’s eyes hardened. She glanced at the group before stepping closer to him. 

“There is no other way. This way, at least you'll have a chance.” 

“Yeah, and what about you?” Daryl retorted. 

For their part, nobody else in the group tried to comment on the situation. They watched the argument quietly, exchanging awkward looks. The exception, of course, was Kelly. She was signing rapidly, ensuring Connie could keep up with the conversation. 

Carol sucked in a breath and shrugged in response to his question. 

“I’ll make it, or I won’t.” 

Daryl bristled at her reply. It was exactly what he'd thought. This was a plan to sacrifice herself. 

“The answer's no," he told her, gruffly.

The answer's hell fuckin' no, he amended in his head. 

"We’re gonna find another way,” he reiterated, waiting for her to fight him on it. 

Carol's nostril's flared but she nodded and stepped back. 

Daryl frowned, unsure how he felt about her stepping down without a fight. It wasn't like her. But she seemed casual as she spoke again.

"Alright," she said with a nod, no argument in her voice. "We'll find something else." 

Daryl scrutinized her, trying to read any insincerity. After a moment, he found that he could see none. Carol was a fantastic liar though. If there was something she didn't want him to know? He sure as hell wouldn't know it. 

"Maybe we should check out the area some more. We could have missed something," Carol suggested.

Everyone looked to Daryl. 

For some reason they deferred to him as leader. It was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to. He'd spent his life following and had been satisfied with that. But now, these days, he was finding himself in charge more often. 

Daryl watched her again, trying to see behind her words. To see if there was a plan B forming in her strategic brain. Eventually, he nodded to the group, to do as Carol had suggested. With his approval, they all started moving around the small area, looking for signs of a method of escape. 

Part of him wanted to join them but the other part didn't want to take his eyes off Carol. Everytime he looked away from her, something happened. She'd do something, putting either herself or others in danger. 

Probably sensing his continued stare, Carol turned her head to look at him. She furrowed her brow. 

"Are we doing this?" she asked.

He stared at her for a long moment. 

"Yeah," he said, finally accepting that he wasn't going to find any clues to the mystery of her mind. 

"I'll look here and you can check that ledge over there," Carol ordered. 

She had allocated herself a spot close by. Perhaps she did that on purpose, knowing that he wouldn't accept her moving any further away. 

Assuring himself that she wasn't going anywhere, he turned. He approached the ledge and glared down at the corpses before moving his eyes to search for something they could use. 

As he suspected, there was nothing. Nothing but a drop down into the waiting hands and mouths below. As Daryl moved to check out another spot, he flinched. It had felt as if someone had shoved something in his back pocket. He whirled around, his hand dropping to his pants. Before he could even inspect his pocket, his attention was diverted by something more worrying. 

Carol was not where she had been only moments ago.

Daryl's eyes searched the area, looking first in the direction of the rest of the group. They were still peering around, chatting amongst themselves. She was not with them. He turned the other way, eyes widening as he finally saw her. 

Carol had, at some point, moved to the opposite end of the ledge. She was standing right on the edge of the rock there, looking out at the sea of walkers. She pulled her gun out of the back of her pants. Daryl had barely taken a step in her direction before she jumped. His heart stuttered, believing for a moment that she had dropped herself into the pit of walkers. 

Once his sense returned to him, he hurried over. He looked down but couldn't see her. For a moment he started to believe she had already been swallowed up amongst the dead. But then he saw a flash of silver hair. Carol was alive. She was getting to her feet on a rock that jutted out of the cave floor. It was a small platform a couple of feet away from where she had jumped. 

Daryl studied it before huffing in frustration. There was no way he'd be able to jump down there himself. Not without knocking Carol into the pit of walkers. He looked around and his eyes zeroed in on an outcrop below the ledge he was on. If he could lower himself onto that, he could reach out to her. It wouldn't be easy, but he was sure that if he tried, she would be able to reach his hand. Before he could make any move to put his plan in action, the sound of gunfire drew his eyes back in her direction. 

Carol held her gun above her head, having fired off the shot. The sound reverberated in the cavern, drawing the attention of the walkers. 

"Come on!" she shouted. 

More and more walkers moved towards the sound. They packed in against the rock she stood on, growling and shoving against each other. 

Daryl moved on shaking legs. He lowered himself down from the ledge, landing on his feet with a soft thud. He wobbled for a moment before regaining his balance. He turned back to look at Carol. She was looking past him, up to where the group must be. She waved her free hand towards something on the opposite wall of the cave. Daryl looked to where she was pointing. 

There was an opening in the cave wall. Possibly an exit. The bunched up walkers had been pressed so tightly to the walls that they had missed it. Now with the walkers converging on Carol's position, it had freed up the space. 

“Go!” she yelled to them. 

She shot a walker in the head. It’s body slumped, falling to be trampled under the rest of the dead. Another walker took it's position, arms reaching out to Carol. 

Daryl could see the group now. Jerry and Aaron helped Magna, Connie and Kelly to lower themselves into the pit. As soon as they hit the ground, they moved with purpose towards the opening. Daryl looked back at Carol. 

"Carol!" he called to her, finally finding his voice. 

She turned to look at him, eyes widening. She took an unconcious step in his direction before stopping. 

"What are you doing?" she asked. 

The walkers surrounding Carol continued to grab at her, barely missing their target. She looked away from him enough to send a shot into one's head. The fallen walker was pushed out of the way for a new one to take its place. 

"There's too many of 'em!" he said, calling out above the groaning of walkers. "You gotta come back!" 

Carol's eyes watered as she looked at him. She glanced at the sea of walkers for a moment. When she looked back at him, her tears had spilled over. It was as if part of her didn't want to come back. 

"Please," he begged her, holding his hand out. "Please come back." 

Carol let out a sob. She moved back in his direction, taking careful steps.

Daryl moved himself as far forward as he could on the small ledge, still holding his hand out. He had missed it before but now he could see that there were more small rocks jutting out of the cave floor. It created a makeshift path for her. 

As Carol moved, she shot at the walkers that got too close for comfort. When she ran out of ammo, she took to smashing the butt of the gun into their skulls. That method worked until the gun slipped from her hand, falling into the pit. Letting out a frustrated growl, Carol ripped her knife free from her belt. She used it to clear any walkers out of her way before kicking them off the rock. She glanced up at him now and then, as if making sure he was still there, ready to catch her. 

"Come on," Daryl urged her. "You got this."

Carol hurried her pace. As she grew closer, she reached her free hand out to him. Daryl tried to grab it but she was still too far away. 

"Just a bit further," he told her. 

Carol stabbed another walker and jumped onto another rock. She leaned over with her hand out. Daryl's fingers closed around hers and he used his other hand to grip her wrist. He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arm around her waist. The contact of her body against his had an immediate calming effect and he sighed. He could hear her breathing coming out in pants. 

"It's alright," he said softly. "Everything's alright. I got you." 

He felt her nod against his shoulder. 

But Daryl was wrong. It wasn't alright. 

He heard a crack and in the next moment, Carol was slipping from his arms. A cry escaped her as she fell.

Daryl's eyes sought out the reason for the fall. A piece of the outcrop had broken away, crumbling under her feet. He scrambled to get a hold of her, managing to latch onto one of her hands. His heart was loud in his ears as he looked down at her. 

Carol hung from his hand, her body dangling above the walkers. The ledge he stood on wasn't high enough to keep her completely out of harm's way. Her legs and part of her torso were half in the pit. The walkers grabbed at her eagerly and she swatted them away with her free hand. She looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

"Daryl," she gasped out. "I... I dropped my knife!" 

Daryl reached his other hand out to her. 

"Doesn't matter, just grab my other hand!" he told her. 

Carol reached her other hand and he grabbed it. He pulled, trying to lift her up to him. 

"Please don't let go," she whispered, fearfully. 

Daryl shook his head at her.

"Never." 

_(Check out here and head to the end note for a summary if you don't want to read what comes next)_

He renewed his efforts, trying to ignore the fact that her hands were slipping. The exertion from holding on had caused her to sweat, making her hands damp. 

Carol cried out a moment later. Her face was scrunched up. 

She was in pain. 

For a moment, he thought he might have dislocated her shoulder. He was certainly tugging on her arm hard enough to manage such a thing. But then he saw it. 

The walker with its teeth sunk into her leg. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shake the walker off. It pulled away but only to tear a chunk of her flesh free. It gleamed red between its teeth. The blood dripped down its chin. 

Daryl took in the scene with horror.

He wanted to reach for his knives, but if he let go of one of her hands, it would sink her further down among the walkers. 

"Hold on!" he shouted, his eyes stinging with tears. 

"It's too late, Daryl," she said brokenly. 

Daryl shook his head. He could see the aftermath of the walker's bite. It gaped ugly on her thigh. Blood was pouring from the wound, staining her pants. He forced his eyes away from it. 

"No, it aint too late!" he argued, despite knowing it to be true. He adjusted his grip on her hands. 

Carol gritted her teeth, closing her eyes. Another walker had bitten into her, on her other leg. It ripped her flesh away, just as the other walker had. The blood only made more walkers move in, reaching for the wounds. Their hands dug into her flesh, trying to pull pieces away for themselves. She did her best to manouever herself out of their path but without her hands free, there wasn't much she could do. 

"I'm sorry," she told him. She squeezed his hands and gave him a watery smile. 

Daryl could already tell what she intended to do. 

"Don't you let go!" he begged her. 

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said again before releasing her grip. 

Daryl tried to hold onto her but she slipped free. 

"No!" he cried as she fell. His hands reached out uselessly. 

It was too late. 

He watched her drop into the horde. She cried out as her body hit the rocks but she was quickly hidden from his view by the swarming walkers.

Daryl could hear her screams. They rang out in the cave and the pain and fear in her voice choked him. He stared blankly at the patch of walkers as they savaged her. Her screams had ebbed quickly. He hoped that meant she had passed out from bloodloss. That she wouldn't have to endure this.

No, he thought to himself. He couldn't let this go on. They couldn't have her! 

Daryl readied himself to jump down. To fight them off and steal her body back. 

"Daryl!" he heard from above.

He warred with himself before looking up. 

Jerry and Aaron crouched at the ledge he had jumped down from. Both their faces carried expressions of sympathy. Daryl looked back to the feeding frenzy before turning back to them.

"I gotta get her back," he said desperately.

Jerry and Aaron looked at each other before looking back at him.

"Daryl... She... I'm sorry, but she's gone," Aaron said sadly.

"I can... I... can," Daryl stammered, not even sure himself of what he thought he could do.

“She’s gone, man," Jerry repeated, his voice trembling.

Daryl shook his head.

Jerry sighed.

"We need to get out of here and we…" he glanced at Aaron before continuing. "We need you.”

Daryl turned his attention to the group moving towards the cave opening. Magna, Connie and Kelly were taking out walkers that still ambled in the area. Even though most of the horde had been drawn away, there were still far too many near the opening.

Jerry was right. They needed help.

Daryl looked back to the feeding walkers. He felt bile rising in his throat as he watched. Their faces were bloody as they lifted their heads. He could see bits of flesh hanging from their mouths. Daryl grit his teeth and forced himself to look away. He offered his hand up to Jerry and Aaron and they pulled him back up onto the ledge. 

He followed them down into the pit and they moved towards the rest of the group, taking out walkers in their path. With every step he took, Daryl had to force himself not to turn back. 

She was gone, he thought blankly as he stabbed another walker. She was really gone. 


	2. Aftermath and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we find out how life has been for Daryl since the tragedy. Then, later, Daryl is presented with a new possibility he never thought possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second chapter that I have reworked. I hope you like it. I'm still not exactly satisfied but I can't keep going over it anymore. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Also, I know there are lots of things we would have wanted to happen differently in Caryl's journey. I'm happy to work some of them into this if you have any suggestions. If it's not clear from the story description, we are eventually going all the way back to the quarry so theres a lot of opportunity for change there.

Daryl spent the next month in a haze. 

Knowing he wasn't good company for anyone, he entrusted Dog to the care of Judith. She'd been more than happy to take on her pet sitting role again, giving him a sad smile before hugging him tightly. She knew about Carol and knew he was hurting.   
Michonne had broken the news to both Judith and RJ gently. RJ was too young to really understand the gravity of it. Judith on the other hand, had been heartbroken to hear what happened to her aunt Carol. 

Michonne, of course, had spared the kids the horrifying details. The only thing they knew was that a walker had gotten Carol and they hadn't been able to save her. That had been more than enough for Judith to burst into hysterical tears.  
Daryl had heard the whole conversation and the ensuing break down from his room. Judith's wails had shoved a rusty knife into the gaping wound in his heart. He had shoved a pillow over his head and tried to drown out the sound. 

In the days after, he managed to crawl out of the refuge of his room. He geared up and took his bike all the way out to Hilltop.   
The people stared at him and offered him awkward greetings upon arrival. News travelled fast between the communities. They knew what had happened in the cave and Daryl had never kept it a secret how much he cared for Carol. Ezekiel himself had stared at Daryl for a long while before giving him a wave. He'd allowed the man a nod. The former king had cared about Carol too, even after their break up.   
Daryl had headed for the merchants that ran little booths in the yard. He'd needed something to help him forget. Hilltop happened to produce bottles of forget on the regular. He traded what he could, which wasn't much, mainly cigarettes, and acquired a few bottles of booze. The vendors had given him knowing looks as they handed the goods over but they hadn't said a word. 

Daryl had returned to Alexandria, avoiding Michonne's attempt at conversation. He locked himself up in his room once more. Then, he'd gotten started sinking to the bottom of the bottles. He kept his door firmly locked. He knew how he could be when he was drunk and didn't want the kids to see him like that. He'd ignored the knocking at his door and the calls for dinner. He hadn't been hungry in a while. 

Despite the brief reprieve the booze gave him from the pain, it did nothing to stop the nightmares. In fact, it made them worse.  
He would find himself back in that cave. Her screams would echo in his ears and he'd be pushing himself through the horde, trying to reach her. But each step he'd take made the distance wider. 

Then came the worst part. 

The blood. 

It would fill up the cavern, rising higher and higher until he couldn't stop it from completely submerging him. He'd be drowing, scrambling with his hands, trying to reach the surface. All the while he was filled with the knowledge that this was Carol's blood.The stuff that had kept her alive, had made her heart beat, had made her cheeks turn rosy when she smiled. 

Daryl would wake covered in sweat, gasping for air. He'd heave himself from his bed, rush to the bathroom and vomit until he was only making dry heaves over the toilet bowl. He'd slump to the floor afterwards, not bothering to move. He knew he'd only be returning there after another dream. 

Eventually, he'd poured the remaining bottles of alcohol down the sink. There'd been no point lying to himself anymore. The booze wasn't going to take away the pain. And when he'd sobered up for the first time in weeks, he regretted the decision to turn to the stuff. He'd been acting like his father. It was a terrifying thought for him. He'd never wanted to be like his dad. 

With a new resolve to never do such a thing again, Daryl offered to do whatever the hell was needing to be done. People had been reluctant at first. They'd seen how unlike himself he'd been. But soon, probably with some coaxing on Michonne's part, they changed their tune. They started giving him odd jobs. Repair work mostly. 

Daryl knew they felt sorry for him and that they could easily have done the tasks themselves. Usually pity like that would piss him off. For now though, it served his purpose. As long as they felt sorry for him, they would keep handing him mind numbing chores he could throw himself into.  
\----  
Daryl concentrated on his hands as he crafted bolts. He sat on the steps of the house he shared with Michonne and the kids. He had no jobs or tasks that had been appointed to him. So this was the next best thing. It didn't do much in the way of clearing his head, but at least it kept his hands busy. 

“Daryl?” 

Daryl looked up at the call of his name. 

Eugene stood at the foot of the steps. He waved awkwardly. 

Daryl squinted at him. 

Eugene had never sought him out like this before. They had worked together, fought together, survived together. But they had never just talked or spent time together for the sake of it. So Daryl, naturally assumed this had to be about something that needed to be done. 

"What's up?" he asked, hoping it was something time consuming. 

Eugene cleared his throat. 

“Well, let me preface this by saying that there is no guarantee that it will work," he started. 

Daryl frowned. 

Eugene didn't seem to notice as he kept speaking. 

"It would take years and years of research before we could determine how accurate the calculations are," he took a breath and smiled a little. "In spite of that, I feel that, given the recent loss, it would be a risk willing to be taken.”

Eugene looked at Daryl expectantly in the silence that followed. 

Daryl stared at him blankly. 

“What?" 

Eugene’s cheeks warmed. He chuckled sheepishly. 

“Uh, I may have jumped the gun there, so I’ll backtrack." 

Daryl waited. He had stopped carving the arrow he'd been working on and was simply turning it over in his hands. 

Eugene took a breath before continuing. 

“I have, successfully I might add, created something similar to that of the fabled flux capacitor in the iconic trilogy, Back to the Future," he said, grinning. 

Daryl just stared at him, wondering if Eugene had really said what he thought he did. 

Eugene shifted. 

“Uh, Back to the Future was a movie from the 80s…” Eugene started to explain, misreading his reaction.

Daryl cut him off. 

“I know what Back to the Future is," he said with a glare. 

Eugene's cheeks reddened and he gave Daryl an apologetic look. 

“Then you should understand the concept, at least in a simple way." 

At that, Daryl’s glare intensified. 

“Not that you’re simple, of course,” he spluttered. 

Daryl huffed, feeling a headache coming on. 

“Will you just get to the point?” Daryl urged. 

Eugene puffed his chest up.

“I have..." he dragged out. "Built a time machine!” he finished, beaming. 

Daryl stared at him. 

“You built a time machine,” Daryl repeated flatly. 

Eugene deflated a little at his lack lustre tone. 

“Uh, yeah." 

“Bullshit,” Daryl muttered, gathering up his arrows and getting to his feet. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get any peace out here. 

“Hey, wait a minute!” Eugene cried. 

Daryl could hear the man following, trying to keep up with the larger strides he was making. Daryl whirled around, bringing the two men face to face. 

“What the hell do you want from me?" Daryl growled, looking him up and down.

Eugene backed up with his hands raised. 

“Look, will you please just hear me out?" he begged. "I’ve got a proposition for you."

Daryl scrutinised him before backing off a little. As ridiculous as it seemed, Daryl could tell he was being serious. 

Eugene blew out a breath. 

"I can prove that the time machine is real too,” he said. 

Daryl forced himself not to roll his eyes. 

“Forget the damn time machine for a minute. What the hell's this proposition you got for me?” Daryl asked.

Eugene looked stumped for a moment before he spoke. 

"Well, the two things aren't exactly mutually exclusive." 

Daryl sighed and nodded for him to continue. 

“My proposition is this: I want you to go back in time," Eugene said, the eagerness returning to his eyes. 

Daryl blinked. 

“What?” was all he could manage. 

“You heard me correctly," Eugene confirmed.

"Why the hell would I do that?" Daryl asked, still not sure why he was even talking about this.

"Think about it," Eugene urged. With some hesitance, he continued. "You could go back. Go back and save her."

Daryl's stomach jumped even as his mind warred against the impossibility. 

Save her. 

His mind latched onto the words.   
\-----  
“So, you said you could prove it," Daryl reminded as he took in Eugene's workspace. 

It was in the attic of one of the houses and had been arranged to hold all the junk the man was tinkering with. There were crates of bits and pieces everywhere. 

“Correct," Eugene replied, not the least bit self concious of the room. On the contrary, he seemed proud of it. 

"Well?" Daryl said with little patience. 

"Uh... Right..." he stammered, catching onto Daryl's mood. "So, I’ve been doing small tests over the last few weeks." 

Daryl moved to lean against a support beam as he listened. He crossed his arms. 

"No one, as far I know, has noticed, but I’ve been travelling back in time," Eugene continued, barely containing his glee. "With this!" he added, gesturing towards something on the workbench. 

Daryl examined it. 

At first glance, it looked to be a plain old backpack. Something one might take on a run. On closer inspection, he realised there were things that set it apart. There were panels of some kind of metal circuitry along either side. There was a small rectangular piece of metal on the right strap with a number pad embedded in it. In various places there were russian symbols. 

"You got this stuff from the satellite?" Daryl asked out loud, looking to Eugene for confirmation. 

He nodded. 

"In all honesty, without the pieces I salvaged from the satellite, my endeavours would likely have failed," he paused and smiled. "Some of the stuff was truly extraordinary! I'd even hazard a guess that some of it was experimental." 

"That's... That's... Great?" Daryl commented, not knowing what else he could say. 

If Eugene noticed or minded, he didn't call attention to it. He just nodded again, his smile widening. 

"Indeed, it is. But I should get back to the matter at hand, right?" 

I wish you would, Daryl thought to himself. 

"On my test trips, I would place markers. Ways to prove to myself whether I could alter the timeline,” he said, waving his hands as he spoke. 

“And?” Daryl prompted. 

Eugene had a penchant for leaving dramatic pauses after his statements that left you mentally screaming at him to get on with it. 

“And I was," Eugene replied, smiling again. "Each time, when I returned to the present, I would check the locations where I left the markers and they would be there, when before I left, they weren't." 

Daryl hummed as he considered the answer. 

Was this the 'proof' Eugene spoke of? Daryl wondered. There had to be more. 

“How am I supposed to believe any of this?” 

Daryl knew that he was only humoring Eugene because the alternative would have been crafting arrows and feeling sorry for himself. At least, even if this turned out to be a load of bullshit, he wouldn't have to think about less than pleasant things for a small time. 

“Good question," Eugene said. He picked up the backpack thing. "I’m going to demonstrate one of my experiments in front of you." 

“Alright,” Daryl said, squinting at him. 

Eugene hooked the backpack over one arm before he turned back to the workbench. He reached for a notebook and flipped a few pages in it. He held it open in front of Daryl's face. Daryl took a half step back from the invasion of space. 

“This page is blank other than the date at the top, correct?” Eugene asked.

Daryl focused on the page. 

“Yeah," he confirmed after a beat.

"I always date my notebooks ahead of time. A habit I developed as a child that just never left. In this case, its a useful habit," Eugene explained. “I’m going to place this notebook on the table again and I'm going to go back, in time, and write on it." 

Daryl thought he understood the concept behind this little experiment. If it worked, the page should have the same date but won't be blank. 

Eugene situated both straps over his shoulders. 

“I’m going to travel back a few hours and then return," Eugene explained as he pressed some buttons on the keypad. "I should be gone for only several minutes, but it can be unpredictable." 

Daryl nodded his understanding. 

"You might want to get comfortable, just in case,” Eugene advised as an afterthought. 

Daryl sighed and took a seat in one of the dingy chairs that littered the room. As his behind made contact with it, a cloud of dust exploded around him. He coughed, waving the particles away. 

Eugene gave him a sheepish look. 

"Sorry, I've uh... I've been meaning to clean up in here." 

Daryl just shook his head, continuing to choke slightly.

“Okay, well... I guess I'll see you soon!” Eugene said after an awkward silence. 

He pushed a button on the keypad. There was a sound like an electronic 'zap' and Eugene disappeared.

Daryl blinked, staring at the space where the man had once stood. Even though Eugene had seemed serious, Daryl still hadn’t expected anything to happen. Time travel was something that belonged in the world of make believe. That was what he had always thought. 

He moved to the workbench and opened the notebook to the page Eugene had showed him. It was still blank with just the scrawled digits of the date in the top right corner. He closed it and returned to the dusty seat. He waited, his leg bouncing up and down impatiently. He wanted answers to the questions he was only now starting to have. 

Was this real? 

Could he really go back and stop what happened to Carol? 

That was the main one. If this was real, then there was a chance he could save her. And the hope that thought brought on, was unbearable. He needed to know now. 

After more long minutes of foot tapping and his thumb being practically gnawed to the bone, there was another 'zap' and Eugene appeared once more. He took the pack off and put it on the bench. 

"Have a look at the notebook," he said casually. 

Daryl stared at him for a moment longer before getting up and approaching the table. He picked up the book and flipped it open to the page he had looked at minutes ago. The date was the same in the corner but the page was no longer blank. It now had writing on it. It read: 

‘Hello Daryl. I just travelled back in time. Do you believe me now?’

Daryl lowered the book and looked at Eugene. The man was standing with his hands on his hips. A smile threated to break out on his face. 

Eugine had really built a time machine. 

Well, shit, Daryl thought. 

He flopped back in the chair he had just vacated. He didn't even notice this time when the dust particiles floated around him. He hung his hands over his knees and stared at the floor. Minutes passed and then, suddenly, there was a bottle of water being thrust into his line of sight. He looked up to see Eugene standing there, offering it. 

"Looked like you could use this," he said by way of explanation. 

Daryl took it silently, unscrewing the cap and proceeding to gulp down half the contents. 

Eugene stepped away and took a seat in the chair at his workbench. He didn't make any move to talk. He seemed to know that Daryl needed a moment to process all of this. 

Daryl was thankful for the quiet as his mind whirred with what he had learned. He was still unsure about the whole thing but there was no denying it now. He had seen concrete evidence of it. Time travel was real and they had access to it. He swallowed hard. Even after all the water he had just drank, his throat still felt dry.

“So, you want me to go back in time?” he rasped out, meeting Eugene's eyes. 

Eugene nodded. 

“Correct," he confirmed. 

Daryl took another gulp of water as he waited for Eugene to keep talking. 

"I believe, if I can send you back a few weeks ago, you can prevent the events that caused the… The tragedy in the caves,” he said, hedging his words at the end. 

Daryl chewed his lip. 

“You said you got your reasons for wanting me to do this.”

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"Simply put, I need the data that such a trip will provide. I’ve never gone back more than a day or two.” Eugene looked down sheepishly. “It pains me to say, but I confess I’m a little too weak willed to make the trip myself. Plus, I figured why not try to do some good while we’re at it?” 

Daryl hummed. They were good enough reasons. 

“So, I go back weeks ago and stop…" he paused, unable to give words to the event. "Stop it?" 

"That's it," Eugene confirmed. 

Daryl nodded. 

“What about the me that's already back there?” Daryl asked as the thought occurred to him. 

Eugene gave a little grimace. 

“That's a bit of a tricky thing. Going back doesn't put you in your old body or cancel out the you that's already there," he explained. "I had some close calls in my experiements. Narrowly missed bumping into myself a few times." 

Daryl leaned forward in his seat, playing with the bottle cap. 

"You’ll have to come up with an idea of what to do about that. My suggestion would be to find a way to keep your past self out of the picture for a little while. Cause some sort of distraction," Eugene went on. 

“Alright, but I told you, I’ve seen Back to the Future, so, if I meet myself what’ll happen?” Daryl questioned.

Eugene considered the question but then shrugged. 

“Nothing is my guess. Fiction is different than reality. It’s not advisable because of the confusion it would present but, theoretically speaking, if you do happen to run into yourself, nothing will happen. That's what my calculations seem to indicate.” 

“Huh," Daryl said with a frown. "That’s easier than I thought."

Eugene chuckled. 

"That's what I thought myself. It seems that, as hard as it is to live in this world, time travel is actually pretty easy in the grand scheme of things." 

Daryl hummed. 

"When do we do this?” He asked. 

“Take the rest of the day and prepare," Eugene suggested. "Gather whatever you think you’ll need. Good thing is, from my tests, I’ve concluded that whatever you're carrying will come with you.” 

“Alright," Daryl agreed.   
\---  
Later that night, Daryl lay on his couch. Dog was at his feet, sleeping peacefully. Daryl, however, was wide awake. He looked to the table across the room and his eyes zeroed in on the double acorns. His lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. 

'They're good luck,' he heard Carol say in his head

He would take them with him. He needed that luck. Looking at the acorns reminded him of the discovery he had made the same night he had lost her. 

A Few Weeks Ago:

Daryl returned to his room, feeling lost and unable to focus on much of anything. He tore his shirt from his tired body, eager to shower. When he reached his pants, he paused. He was reminded of the moments before her death. The strange touch on his back pocket. His hands patted over the pockets, and he felt it. A barely discernible bump. He reached his hand in and closed his fingers around the object inside. He sucked in a shocked breath when he pulled his hand back out. It was the bracelet he had made her that day in the forest. Flashes of the day appeared before his eyes. Her smile and her teasing eyes. She'd seemed so carefree.

Daryl fell back on the couch, dissolving into sobs as he clutched the flimsy bracelet in his hand. Dog nudged him with his nose, in concern for his master’s grief. He'd hauled the mutt into his arms, burying his face in his fur. 

Now:

Daryl reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, pulling out the little bracelet. He flipped it over in his fingers, his mouth curving in a smile again. He'd only been joking when he'd presented it to her. He'd hoped it would at least make her smile or even laugh. But she had taken to wearing it religiously. He couldn’t remember seeing her without it since he'd given it to her.   
He stared at it a beat longer before he undid it and settled it over his own wrist. It did fit a little snugly but he managed to tie it securely.

He needed to take it with him too. 

A piece of her to give him strength. 


	3. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl makes his first, yes that's right, FIRST, trip in time. He's determined to prevent Carol from ever reaching that cave and is willing to use drastic measures to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not exactly satisfied with this chapter but I can't keep looking at it so here it is. I hope you like it. It's not that much different from the original one but there are a few more caryl interations that I've added.

Daryl arrived at Eugene’s attic early the next day. He had brought with him his bow, his knives, some rope and a handgun. The gun was probably unnecessary but he wanted to be prepared. The rope, he didn't want to think about. 

The acorns sat discreetly in his shirt pocket, over his heart and Carol's bracelet sat on his wrist snugly. Both served to bolster his courage. 

Eugene smiled at him in greeting as he entered the attic. Daryl wasn't able to return it. He was too full of nerves and worrying over all the 'What ifs?'. 

“So, I take it you're ready?” Eugene asked. 

“Ready as ever,” he replied. He eyed the device on the workbench warily.

Eugene picked it up and held it out to him. Daryl took it and slipped it onto his shoulders. It felt a little strange, putting on a backpack that was empty. The metal panels attached to it didn't add much weight at all. 

Daryl adjusted the straps to be snug on his shoulders and forced himself not to flinch when Eugene moved into his space, pressing buttons on the number pad. 

“Okay," he said, stepping back. "All set. This will take you back a few weeks ago before everything happened." 

Daryl nodded. 

"Unfortunately, I can’t tell you exactly what day or even the time that you’ll arrive. You’ll have to play it by ear,” Eugene added with a sheepish shrug.

"Right."

“When you’re ready, push this button here,” Eugene instructed, pointing out a small white button. “The return coordinates are already programmed in. You just need to press the button again when you want to come back.” 

Daryl nodded again. 

“Well, that's it. I guess the only thing left to say is, good luck," Eugene said with a smile. 

Well, here goes nothin’, he thought to himself in trepidation.

Daryl pushed the white button and his stomach jolted as the world around him disappeared. Everything was black. No matter what direction he looked, there was nothing to be seen. And It seemed like the darkness went on forever. 

What seemed like hours later but could have been minutes, he started to make out blurry shapes. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. The colors and scenery faded in slowly but soon he recognised the buildings and gardens. He was in Alexandria. He looked around, checking if anyone had seen him arrive. Thankfully, he seemed to have landed behind the houses, where no one typically was. 

After another look around, he hurried along the streets, glancing this way and that. He needed to stay out of sight. As he moved he tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It was like the nausea that you'd get if you rode on a bus too long. He snorted to himself. Travel sickness. Or he guessed it was 'Time' travel sickness. 

Daryl kept behind the houses, moving from one to another. He spotted a few people here and there but they didn't seem to notice him. They just passed by, on their way to whatever their day entailed. As he rounded another house, he pulled up short. 

There she was. 

Carol. Standing in front of their house, chatting to Aaron. 

The sight of her had his eyes stinging. All he wanted was to run over and pull her into his arms. Breath her familiar scent in. Things he never thought he'd get to do again. 

The sight of himself walking over helped to sober him. He'd nearly screwed up this whole mission. He needed to keep his mind set on the goal. He focused back on the scene before him. His past self approached Carol and Aaron and started speaking to them. 

Daryl frowned as he watched himself talk. This was weird. He'd expected it would be, but it was a whole other thing to see it for real. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone. He pushed the strangeness away and focused on the conversation again. He couldn't hear much of what they were saying but he caught enough. They were going over the plan to look for the horde.

This was it. 

Daryl's heart pounded at the realisation.   
\--  
Daryl waited until his past self, Carol, and Aaron headed off. He followed them, taking the path behind the houses for cover. 

He narrowly avoided running across Gabriel as he walked by. He had to quickly press himself back against the side of a house. When the coast was clear, he hurried to catch up with his targets. 

As they left the gates, Daryl waited behind the last house that could offer him cover. He stayed where he was for a long while. He needed to let them get a head start or he'd be found out.

When he was sure enough time had passed, he looked around. He made sure no one was around to see before running and leaving out the gate. He could see their trail clearly as he walked. He wasn't worried about losing them anyway. He knew where they were going. What he was worried about, was what he was going to do about his past self. He had to figure out a plan. Something to get his past self out of the way. 

He would rather not have to have a conversation with himself. That could slow things down too much and jeapardise the success of this mission. Knocking himself unconcious seemed to be the most reliable and least problematic plan. He could take over his place in the group and no one would know any different. 

Daryl watched as they met up with the other group. They greeted each other and talked. After a while, Jerry, Magna, Connie and Kelly, joined the original trio, forming a new group. They set off together and he followed along once more. He knew at some point the group stopped to rest and have water. He remembers going off alone to check the perimetre. That would be his chance to take himself out. 

Daryl kept up with them easily. He ducked behind trees if they happened to look in his direction. So far, he'd been successful in keeping his presence secret. He thanked his experience with walking in the woods and knowing how to quieten his steps. 

It wasn’t long before the group slowed and stopped in the little clearing. They settled in and chatted quietly amongst themselves as they rested. He saw his past self watching Carol. She was oblivious to it as her eyes darted around the area, clearly looking for the horde. 

Daryl watched the group from his spot behind a tree, waiting for the moment he needed. It came soon enough. His past self spoke to Aaron briefly before walking off into the trees alone. 

Daryl didn't hesitate to follow. He gave the group in the clearing a wide berth and moved silently in the direction the other him had gone. He saw himself walking up ahead, turning this way and that. His bow was in his hands, at the ready. 

Daryl needed to be careful. One wrong move and he’d get an arrow in the head. He stepped around a tree, creeping closer. He calculated his steps carefully, making sure not to step on any twigs that would give him away. He was only a few feet away from himself now. 

It was now or never, he thought. 

Daryl kept his steps light but quick and didn’t waste time in grabbing himself. He heard his past self let out a grunt of surprise as he dropped his bow. 

Daryl used the moment of confusion to get his forearm around his own throat. His past self growled and his hands dropped from where they had been grabbing at his arm. 

Daryl knew what his other self was planning, therefore he beat him in time before he could reach for his knives. One handedly, he grabbed each knife, tossing them to the ground. His past self growled again as he renewed his efforts to break the choke hold. 

The fight continued for a while. The moment of surprise had given Daryl enough of an advantage but that was not to say this was easy. His past self was fighting like hell against him. His hands struck out wildly, trying to land blows anywhere he could. 

Ultimately, even his determination couldn’t compete with exhaustion. His past self’s power began to wane, and his breath began to come out thinner. His past self slumped in his arms and Daryl struggled under the weight as he lowered him to the ground. 

He dragged him further behind some bushes and placed his crossbow beside him. He grabbed his past self’s knives and returned them to their place on his belt. Then, he removed the time machine backpack and settled it next to his past self. He couldn't take it with him to the group. It would only raise questions. He looked over his passed-out form, once again being overtaken by the strangeness. 

“Sorry, man,” he muttered as he watched his own chest rise and fall, confirming he had not killed himself.

Daryl had no choice but to trust that leaving him there would be a good idea. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been passed out in walker territory.  
\--  
Daryl entered the clearing. The group tensed and raised their weapons. After a moment, they relaxed as they recognised him. 

“All clear?” Aaron asked, approaching him. 

“Nah," Daryl lied, shaking his head. He hoped Aaron wouldn't ask too many questions. Daryl knew he wasn't the best at lying. 

"I found tracks and signs of ‘em,” Daryl continued, “Abort mission.”

Aaron regarded him for a moment before he nodded in agreement. Daryl tried not to show his relief. 

“Alright, let’s head back,” Aaron said, raising his voice a little so the rest of the group heard. 

Daryl didn’t miss the irritation that settled into Carol’s face at the decision. He knew that she wanted to keep going, to find Alpha and her horde. He moved over to her. Everyone else had started to gather their stuff and follow Aaron. Carol stood there looking just pissed enough to try to keep going herself. He had to get through to her.

“Hey,” he called, making her look at him. 

Daryl gulped as the weight of her eyes fell on him. He had to physically plant his feet to stop himself from pulling her into a hug. 

“This ain’t over. Just need to be smarter about it, alright?” he continued. 

Carol frowned at him and then looked in the direction they had been travelling in. 

“Carol,” he said, turning her attention to him once more.“Please,” he breathed, not caring that his voice broke.

Her eyes lost some of their edge and she nodded. She grabbed her bow and arrows. 

Daryl felt his heart begin to calm down. This was already different than what had happened. That was a good sign, right?

Carol and he began to follow the rest of the group when he saw Carol freeze out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look at her and saw her gaze transfixed on something in the distance. He followed her gaze and felt his blood run cold. 

Alpha. 

Standing there with a smirk.

Fuck! 

Daryl knew he couldn’t waste time with this. Carol was going to run after her, just like last time. He couldn’t let her get that far. As soon as they got in the caves, it would make saving her even harder.

Feeling sick with himself over it all the while, he grabbed her by the arms and dragged her backwards. She didn’t fight him at first, probably out of shock. Then, she did fight. Like hell. He grunted as she kicked him in the calf.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing? Let me go!” Carol cried out in outrage.

“Can’t,” he said against her ear. 

She growled and managed to loop her foot behind his ankle. His balance failed and they both fell to the ground. He groaned. The landing had not been soft. It didn't take long before he remembered his goal. He turned his head to look for Carol. She was crawling, trying to get to her feet once more.

Daryl lunged for her, catching her ankle in his hand. She fell back to the ground with a grunt. He scrambled to his knees and moved over to where she lay. She tried to push herself up with her hands, but he quickly settled a hand to her back, effectively keeping her down. She gasped and tried to reach back to hit him. He grabbed her arm, gently as possible.

“Let me go!” she screamed, sounding more pissed off than he’d ever heard her.

Daryl continued pressing her into the dirt..

“This is for your own good, I promise,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry.”

He grabbed her other arm and then reached into his back pocket for the length of rope. He bound her wrists behind her with guilt eating at him. He'd brought the rope for this exact purpose. He'd warred with himself but decided he'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. And if it made her hate him? He could deal with that. So long as she lived. 

Carol had stopped fighting against him and just lay there, panting against the ground.

“You finished?” he asked her, his face close to her ear.

“Are you?” she retorted in a tired voice.

Daryl moved off her but didn’t release the grip he had on her arms. She pulled herself up onto her knees, before she turned to look at him. There were tears streaking her face and there were lingering signs of fear about her. 

Daryl felt his throat tighten. He’d known it was probably going to scare her and even possibly hurt her but seeing it in the flesh was soul crushing.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” she breathed, threat clear in her eyes and voice. She sucked in a deep breath. “What the hell was that?”

Daryl chewed his lip. He couldn’t tell her the truth. She wouldn’t believe him.

“I couldn’t risk it. I know how you get when it comes to her. The last thing we need is you to go running off after her.” 

He caught the ashamed look in her eyes and frowned. It had sounded like he was calling her a liability. 

“I just mean I can’t lose you. Not now,” he amended in a broken voice.

Carol watched him silently and he saw when her rage began to ebb.

“So, you tied me up?” she asked, and he could hear the small amount of humour in her voice. 

He let out his breath in relief. If she was joking, that meant he hadn't traumatised her as much as he'd feared. 

“You’re a damn force of nature,” he replied with a playful glare. 

It was true. After the effort it had taken for him to subdue her, he was sure that, were it to come to a serious fight between them, she could take him out easy. 

Carol snorted at his words. Then she fluttered her lashes at him. He swallowed heavily.

“Well, now you’ve got me all trussed up like you wanted, what are you gonna do?” she said, making her voice deep and pushing chest outwards slightly. 

Daryl stared at her in shock, feeling his heartbeat pick up. He felt his pants tighten and he hoped to God she wouldn't look down. 

What the fuck was this? he thought as he watched her, trying to figure out how this turn had happened.

Daryl looked her up and down with a lump still in his throat. And then he caught it. The mirth in her eyes hidden underneath it all. 

She was fucking with him, like she always did.

Daryl scoffed and shoved her a little. He tried to force his 'problem' to go away. He shifted his legs, hoping to at least hide it the best he could. 

“Stop.”

Carol snickered like she always did at his reply. She sobered quickly.

“Help me up?” she asked. 

He didn’t waste time to get them both on their feet again. He moved his hands to hers, about to get started untying the rope. She moved out of his grip. 

He gave her a questioning look but she didn't meet his eyes fully, looking mostly at the ground. When she looked up, there were unshed tears in her eyes.

“I think they should stay like that for now,” Carol said in a shaky voice.

Daryl quickly understood. She didn’t trust herself.

“Alright,” he conceded, though the sight of her with her hands bound, made him sick. Especially knowing it was him that did it.

They caught up with the group and received some weird looks, but no one asked any questions or called attention to Carol’s tied hands.

They made their way back to Alexandria in mostly silence.  
\--  
When they had passed through the gates into Alexandria, Daryl untied Carol. She rubbed her wrists. The action caused her jacket sleeves to rise, revealing red, angry marks on her skin. He felt guilty all over again. 

"You should head to the infirmary and get those seen to," he suggested quietly. 

Carol turned to him. Her eyes were unreadable. 

"I'll be fine. Got some stuff in my room," she replied. 

He nodded, looking down at his boots as they scuffed the ground. 

"Do you... Do you want to talk about what happened?" Carol asked, sounding nervous. 

Daryl lifted his gaze to her again. She looked like she was waiting for the guillotine to drop. Like whatever conversation followed would determine her fate. It took him a moment to understand it but eventually, he did. 

She thought he would be pissed at her for making him have to tie her up. 

The realisation increased his guilt ten fold. Of course she would expect that. His frustration with not knowing how to help her had often times come out in ways that had made him seem angry. He was the first to admit that he didn't always express himself in the best ways. 

Daryl shook his head at her. 

"Not right now. You should head home and gets yourself fixed up." 

Carol breathed out and her tense posture deflated a little. She nodded and turned to go. 

"Hey," he called to her, making her turn her head. He couldn't let her go off thinking he was upset with her for something that wasn't her fault. 

"I ain't mad at you, okay?" he told her, hoping she could hear the honesty behind it. 

Her eyes bored into him, looking sceptical. 

Daryl sighed and took the steps required to close the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms. Her hands settled over his shoulder blades and her head settled into his collarbone. He brought his hand up to bury into her curls, massaging gently. He buried his face into her neck, taking in the clean scent of her skin. This was what he had been wanting. Just to hold her again after so long thinking he never would. 

"I mean it," he murmured in her ear once he'd stopped luxuriating in her proximity. 

He felt her nod against him. 

"Thank you," she breathed quietly but he heard her clearly. 

When he released her, he could see that her face was wet. She had been crying. She lifted her hand to her face and wiped the tears away. She gave a breathy chuckle, before smiling at him. He returned the smile. 

"Go on," he told her. 

With a last look at him, she walked off in the direction of their house. Daryl watched her go, feeling true happiness for the first time in a month. 

He'd done it. He'd saved her. 

Daryl smiled but then he remembered that he still had work to do. 

He needed to go check on his past self. He'd hidden him in the bushes pretty well but anything could have happened. Not to mention, his past self would likely be panicking when he awoke to find the group gone. He'd end up jumping to conclusions and assume they were attacked by Whisperers or something.   
He picked up some paper and a pen before he left Alexandria again. If he was still knocked out, he could leave a note. If he encountered himself awake, well... He guessed he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. 

Daryl retraced his way back to where he had left himself. The coast seemed clear. He didn't see any tracks that indicated Whisperers or walkers at least. He approached the bushes and shoved the folliage aside. He breathed out in relief. 

There he was. Still passed out and undisturbed. 

He quickly jotted down a note on the paper. It read: 

'Carol and the group are back in Alexandria. Sorry I knocked you out. There was a good reason.' He settled the slip of paper under the butt of his bow so the wind wouldn't carry it away. He rearranged the bushes, ensuring his past self was obscured well enough. 

Daryl stepped away with the backpack in hand. He needed to get back to the future. He groaned out loud at the way his thoughts had worded it. Shaking his head once more at himself, he pulled the straps over his shoulders. His finger hovered over the white button. He already dreaded the sensation he was about to experience again. 

Daryl took a deep breath before pushing it. Then he was back in the dark place once more. He could see nothing but black until his vision began to clear up. He squinted as he tried to make out the scene. 

What if he ended up in the wrong place? he thought, starting to panic. 

But he relaxed when he could make out the familiar nuances of Eugene's attic. He spotted the man himself soon, too. He was seated at his work bench, head down. His hands were occupied, writing furiously in a notebook. Possibly the same one he'd used to demonstrate that time travel was real. He clearly had not noticed Daryl's appearance. 

Daryl was about to speak up to announce his presence but he was distracted by the familiar sick feeling in his stomach. He groaned. 

Eugene jumped up out of his seat, knocking it backwards. 

“Holy Mary, Joseph and Jesus!” he cried, clutching his chest.

Daryl shrugged off the backpack and moved to one of the armchairs to sit. He covered his face with his hands, trying to push the urge to vomit away. 

“You did it," he heard Eugene say. “I mean, I know you did it, owing to the fact that Carol is alive and well.”

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, lifting his head finally. "I did it." He smiled a little at that. He really had done it. 

Eugene watched him silently for a moment, smiling. He chuckled. 

“Well, I gotta say it’s definitely caused some weird goings on in my head,” Eugene chuckled, “It’s like I’ve got two sets of memories.”

Daryl didn't know what to say to that. He conceded it must be weird. Would he experience that too? he wondered. 

"How long was I gone?" Daryl asked in curiosity. 

Eugene hummed with a thoughtful look. 

"Not too sure. Strictly speaking, you technically didn't leave, owing to the fact that you didn't have a reason to leave. Paradox. Super confusing stuff," he explained, "Luckily, it doesn't seem to have caused any tidal waves on the whole of reality or anyting. I've been going over my calculations and it seems the paradoxes resolve themselves somehow." 

Eugene's words, while he understood them mostly, were causing his head to hurt. His body ached and he felt like he hadn't slept for a week. 

Eugene watched him before shaking his head. He seemed unable to wipe the grin off of his face though. 

“I’m grateful for what you did. The data you've brought back will be invaluable," he said. "But I'm sure you must be tired out of your mind right now. Time travel messes with your body clock like nothing else. Get some rest.” 

Daryl didn't hesitate to lift himself to his feet once more. He dragged himself along as he headed for the door. All he wanted was to pass out.


	4. What Happened To Daryl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short. It shows what happened when Daryl woke up out in the words after being knocked out by his future self. He is extremely confused to say the least.

Daryl's eyes opened slowly. He frowned as he saw the bright blue sky. Then he groaned as his head throbbed. He brought his hand up to his forehead. He recognised the sensation. It wasn't the first time he'd been knocked out. That made him pause. He'd been knocked out. He remembers now. Someone had grabbed him from behind and put him in a choke hold. He'd fought against them but clearly, they'd won. But they hadn't killed him. He looked around seeing that he was lying between a patch of bushes. He looked to the side and saw his crossbow sitting there, still loaded with a bolt. If it was a Whisperer, they could have easily used his own bow to take him out. He frowned as he spotted a bit of paper fluttering in the breeze, held down by the butt of his bow. He pulled it out and read it: 

'Carol and the group are back in Alexandria. Sorry I knocked you out. There was a good reason.'

Daryl squinted at the message again. Something wasn't right about this. That handwriting was eerily familiar. He'd almost think it was his own but that couldn't be possible. He certainly hadn't wrote it. After another glance gave him no answers, he tucked it into his front pocket where the double acorns sat. He got to his feet, grabbing his bow and marched back to the last spot he'd seen the group. He wasn't going to take some mysterious note as guarantee that nothing had happened to them. 

As he entered the clearing, he heard a familiar growl. He turned the sound and brought his bow up, letting a bolt fly. It hit the walker in the forehead, toppling it to the ground. He approached it and pulled the bolt free. He wiped off the gunk on the walker's clothes before loading it onto his bow again. 

Daryl searched the area. He could spot their trail quickly. They'd turned back the way they had come. He followed the path they'd left behind but it seemed that the note had been right. The tracks were leading a straight shot back to Alexandria. There wasn't any signs of stopping or interruption to it either. Still, he kept his eyes peeled for any change in the trail. 

When he reached the gates of Alexandria, he felt even more stumped. Who the hell had left him that note? There was no way anyone in the group would have done it. They would never have just left him out there. But who would leave a note and not kill him? Not Whisperers. They would have seized the opportunity to take him out. Especially since his fight with Alpha. 

Shaking his head, he headed inside, not even looking to see who had opened the gates. He headed to the house he shared with Michonne, Carol and the kids. He needed to see Carol. She'd be able to tell him what happened hopefully. At least, she might help feel less crazy. He entered the house. He passed through the hall and paused in the door way to the dining room. Michonne was there with RJ in front of her at the table. There was a book open between them and Michonne's finger was pointing at something in it. Her grin that she'd been wearing stayed in place as she looked over to him. 

"Hey," she said, softening her smile. RJ waved at him cheerfully. 

Daryl smiled and waved back at the little boy. 

"Hey," he replied.

"Everything alright?" Michonne asked, a trace of worry in her eyes. "Carol got home a few hours ago." 

"Fine. Just had some stuff to do," he frowned as he said it, wondering why he was lying to her. 

"Okay," she replied, though she looked a little sceptical. 

Daryl gave her a last nod and another smile to RJ before moving out of the doorway. He headed towards the stairs. He was damned tired and part of him wanted to head down and drop onto his couch. But he needed some answers. So instead of heading down, he went up. He knocked on her door gently. There was no response at first but soon he heard footsteps. The door opened and Carol stood there looking him up and down. 

"Hey," she said, awkwardly for some reason. 

"Hey," he replied. 

He had to fight not to smile at how she looked right now. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she wore a cream long sleeved top. Her legs were clad in a pair of black sweat pants and her feet were covered by wool socks. It was hard to reconcile the badass she was when she looked so damn adorable like this. 

"I thought... You said you didn't want to talk yet," There was trepidation in her eyes. 

Daryl frowned. When had he said that? 

"No I didn't." 

Carol frowned this time. 

"Yes, you did. Earlier when we got back after you untied me." 

Daryl's eyes bugged. 

"What? Why the hell would I need to untie you?" 

Carol gave him a look like he was crazy. 

"Because you tied me up..." she trailed off with a raised brow. 

Daryl's eyes remained wide as her words absorbed. 

"What? Why would I do that? I'd never do that!" he protested adamantly. Tie her up? What the fuck? 

Carol was looked really worriedly now. 

"Daryl? I don't know what's happening here." 

"Neither do I! All I know is I got knocked out in the woods and when I wake up, there's this note beside me," he said frantically, reaching in his pocket and producing said note. 

Carol takes it gingerly from his hand. She opens it from the crumpled ball it had been in. She reads it before glancing at him. She looks back to the note again. 

"It looks like your handwriting," she says after a beat, meeting his eyes again. 

Daryl's stomach sunk. That's what he'd thought. 

"But it can't be!" he insisted. He grabbed the slip of paper back from her. "I didn't write this!" 

Carol watched him quietly for a while. 

"You said you got knocked out?" 

"Yeah. Someone grabbed me from behind and put me in a chokehold 'til I passed out." 

Carol thought about that. 

"Daryl, you came back with us. With the group. There's no way that could have happened," she said, her eyes sympathetic. 

"Then why don't I remember it that way?" He was getting hysterical now. 

Carol pursed her lips. 

"After I left you at the gates, you went off somewhere. You were gone for hours. Maybe something happened. Maybe..." she paused. "Maybe you hit your head."

Daryl huffed. 

"I didn't hit my damn head. I know what happened!" 

"Alright. I'm just saying, all of this isn't adding up," she amends in a placating voice. 

"I know it don't add up. How the hell can there be a note that I know I didn't write?" 

Carol had no answer for him. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

"Look, you're tired. Get some rest and have a think about what happened. Maybe there's something you missed that could tell you more," she suggested in a kind voice. 

Daryl sighed and lowered his hands. 

"Alright," he agreed. He stared into her eyes. "You believe me, right?" 

"If you say it happened, then I believe you," Carol said, the honesty shining in her eyes. 

He relaxed at her assurance. 

"Thanks." 

She nodded, smiling at him. 

"Of course." 

Daryl listened to her door close once more as he headed downstairs. He entered his room as was greeted by Dog. 

"Hey buddy," he said, scratching Dog's neck. "You're lucky you stayed here. Today was fucked." 

Dog followed as he collapsed on the couch and jumped up to curl on his lap. He kept scratching the mutt's fur absently as his mind tried to work out what happened today.


	5. A Positive Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl wakes the day after returning to the future. For the first time in a long while, he feels happy. Carol is alive. But that doesn't mean everything will be smooth sailing from here. 
> 
> He has a conversation with Carol which makes a new plan form.

Daryl woke feeling better than he had in weeks. The knowledge that he’d managed to save Carol had apparently done wonders for his insomnia. For the first time in a month, he hadn’t woken with the sensation of choking. Hadn’t needed to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach. 

Instead, he’d slept through the night. What he could remember of his dreams was strange though. They were filled with interactions he was sure didn’t happen. Conversations with people he knew he hadn’t had. Daryl guessed this must be what Eugene was talking about when he said he had two sets of memories. 

Daryl went about getting ready for the day without the lethargy that had become familiar. In fact, he almost felt giddy. Because he knew that Carol was alive. He could just go up and talk to her if he wanted. His lips lifted at that. He left his room with an uncommon spring in his step and entered the kitchen. He smiled at the sight that greeted him. 

Michonne was at the stove in the middle of cooking something. Judith and RJ were sitting at the table chatting animatedly. The kids looked around when he approached, grinning at him. 

“Hey, Uncle Daryl!” Judith greeted excitedly. “Mom’s making pancakes! You want some?” 

Daryl moved over to the table and sat down. He reached out a hand and ruffled RJ’s curls, making the boy giggle. 

“Sounds good to me,” Daryl agreed. The thought of pancakes was a welcome one. After he lost Carol, he’d forced food into his mouth now and then. Now, he actually felt hungry. 

Michonne left the stove and placed a stack of plates, along with some utensils on the table. Next to it, she put a plate of perfect, fluffy pancakes. 

“Well, dig in. Enjoy my random burst of motivation,” Michonne urged with a grin. She glanced at Daryl for a long moment, appraising him. 

“You look like you’re in a good mood today,” she finally commented. 

Daryl shrugged. He understood her surprise. It wasn’t a common occurrence for him to be in a good mood. This last year especially. They’d lost too many in such a short amount of time. But today he felt like he’d gotten a piece of himself back. 

“Guess I am,” he replied. 

“Good. Haven’t seen that in a while,” Michonne said, giving him a soft smile. She didn’t try to press the subject more. Instead she occupied herself with putting two smaller pancakes on RJ’s plate. “Here you go, baby.” 

All of them ate and made light conversation. Daryl’s eyes couldn’t help lingering on the empty seat beside him. It was an action he’d grown quite familiar with these last few months. Carol rarely joined them at the dining table. She would usually have her meals in her room. 

“Carol up yet?” he asked through a mouthful of food. 

Michonne gave him a look and he blushed. She’d been trying to teach RJ good manners and had asked him to make more of an effort to be a good example to the boy. He’d never been worried about his manners before so it was easy for him to forget. Still, she answered his question. 

“She left not long ago. I invited her to join us but she seemed pretty keen to head out.” 

Daryl hummed. He couldn’t help the worry that overtook him. He’d saved her life, sure, but he’d still seen that fierce determination for revenge in her eyes. She could wind up going out on her own, looking to kill Alpha, only for something else to happen. Then he’d lose her all over again. Daryl shoved the rest of his last pancake into his mouth, making sure to chew with his mouth closed to placate Michonne a little. Then he stood from the table. He glanced from Judith to RJ. 

“You two be good for your mom, okay?” 

The kids looked up to him. Sometimes it was only his influence that made them give their mother some peace and quiet. They weren’t bad kids. They just got rambunctious at times and it tired Michonne out trying to control them. 

“We will,” RJ promised with a smile. 

Daryl left the kitchen and moved to the front door. He squinted at the bright sun as he emerged from the house. People passed by, some stopping to offer him a wave or greeting that he returned. None of them knew the gravity of what he’d done. If they experienced the strange dreams he had, they probably had written them off as just that. Dreams. It was a little surreal to think about. He and Eugene were the only ones who knew. He walked down the stairs, intent on looking for Carol. 

“Hey,” he heard from nearby, startling him. 

Daryl whirled around to see the object of his search. Carol was sitting on the steps leading down to the cell. She was wearing a pink top with a black vest over the top. It was an odd combination but it looked good on her. Her hair was up in it’s usual knot at the back of her head. He was stuck staring at her for a while, once again distracted by her beauty.   
He shook himself out of it enough to answer her. 

“Hey. You just been sittin’ out here?” 

Carol hummed and nodded. 

“Wanted some fresh air.” 

Daryl looked her over carefully. 

“Everythin’ okay?” 

Carol glanced down at her hands for a moment before looking up at him again. 

“Aaron came by. He told me he was planning on getting a group together to go look for Lydia tomorrow. Wanted me to pass the message along to you,” she revealed. 

Daryl nodded. He’d shamefully forgotten about the missing girl. He’d been so caught up in celebrating the fact that Carol was alive. Lydia being out there somewhere had completely slipped his mind. 

“I’ll go see him later,” he told her in reply. 

Carol nodded but there was still something in her eyes.

“Somethin’ wrong?” 

Carol sighed and fiddled with her bracelet. 

“I think we need to talk.” 

Daryl chewed his lip. That sentence never led to anything good. 

“About what?” 

“About what happened out there in the woods. I know you don't remember it, but you had to tie me up! That’s how bad I was!”

She avoided his eyes after she spoke. Daryl moved over and sat next to her. 

“I remember,” he told her. 

"What? But-" she spluttered, her eyes widening. 

Daryl remembers the wild confusion his past self had displayed in front of her. And then, in the following weeks, his determination to uncover the truth. A quest which had proved fruitless. His past self had been left with no choice but to let what had happened go. 

"I don't know how, but I remember everything now. Don't know why I thought I got knocked out but I know it didn't happen now," Daryl lied. He forced himself to keep eye contact with her and prayed she didn't see through him. Carol almost looked like she wanted to argue the point but she stopped. 

"I'm glad," she said instead. "I was really worried about you." 

"Sorry," he told her. Then he added something on to hopefully reassure her. "Hell, we're all probably fucked in the head by now."

"Some more than others," Carol replied, a look of self loathing in her eyes. 

"I didn't mean that-" he tried but she cut him off. 

"I know. I know that's not what you meant. But it's true," she said. "It's why I keep doing everything wrong. I'm fucked up." 

Daryl swallowed. 

"Nah, you ain't. No more fucked up than me." 

Carol smiled weakly but shook her head. 

"You're too lenient with me, Daryl. I know you've been pissed at me. That I keep disappointing you." 

Daryl shook his head. 

“Nah, I ain’t been pissed at ya. Ain't disappointed neither.” 

Carol sighed and looked at her hands that were still toying with her bracelet. 

“You don’t have to lie to me.” 

“Not lyin’,” Daryl told her honestly. Maybe it had appeared that way to her, but what she had interpreted as him being pissed or disappointed, had just been his fear. Fear that he was losing her. 

Carol huffed at him. She released her bracelet and stared down at the door to the cell. She shook her head. 

"I don't think you realize how fucked up I really am, Daryl," her voice wobbled. 

"Why don't you tell me?" 

Carol glanced at him, hesitance in her eyes. She looked away again. 

"I... See things. People. People that are... Dead," she revealed, pausing here and there. 

"Like see 'em? Right there in front of you?" he asked for clarification. He was a little horrified by it. No wonder she’d been acting so freaked out if she’d been seeing actual ghosts. 

She nodded her head. 

"Exactly like that. I thought the pills would help but they made it worse." 

Daryl didn't know what to say. He was no doctor. He didn’t know much about this stuff. From the book he’d read a long time ago, the one he’d picked up at the women’s shelter, he’d learned a bit about PTSD. The book said that people who experienced trauma could end up having hallucinations like that. Unfortunately, he never got to finish reading it, so   
he didn’t know if it said anything about how to stop it. 

"Am I going crazy, Daryl?" Carol asked, breaking his thoughts. Her voice was small and afraid. 

Daryl shook his head adamantly. He didn’t know a lot about this but she wasn’t crazy. He knew that much. 

"Nah, you ain't crazy. You just been through some shit. We all have. It's bound to hit us all differently. That's all this is," he told her with confidence. 

"Then why can't I stop?” Carol asked, her voice hysterical. “Why can't I listen when you tell me not to do things?" 

Daryl sighed at the desperation in her features. 

“It’s your grief. It’s got you blindsided." 

“It’s making me a liability!” she burst out. She sounded angry now. He knew it was directed at herself. 

“You ain’t a liability,” he retorted vehemently. He knew some of the others thought it, but he would never even entertain the idea. 

Carol’s anger left her quickly and she gave him a sad smile. 

“You’re sweet, but deep down, you know I am.” 

Daryl was ready to argue the point, but she held up her hand to stop him. 

“I can’t stop these feelings inside of me. Whatever I’ve tried hasn’t worked,” she sucked in a breath before looking him in the eye. “That’s why, when you go to look for Lydia, I’m going to stay here. I don’t want to, but it’s safer for everyone.” 

Daryl watched her, watched as she sunk into self-loathing. 

“I can’t trust myself anymore. That’s why I didn’t let you untie me,” Carol confessed in a whisper, her tears flowing freely now. “Maybe it’d be better if you locked me in the cell…” she trailed off. 

Daryl shook his head right away. 

“Nah. You don’t belong in a cage,” he said, reminding him of the conversation he'd had with Lydia. “You’re gonna make it through this. We will, together.” 

Carol pursed her lips but didn’t answer. 

“I hope you’re right because I think I’m losing myself. Worse than I ever have before.” 

With tears threatening to break out, she stood and practically ran up the stairs. She opened the front door and slipped inside.

Daryl sat there for a while after she left. Her words had put a lump in his throat. He was reminded of the conversation they'd had on the stairs in the Sanctuary. She'd said the same back then. He should have paid more attention. Not let her run off and leave on that boat. Nothing was going to erase the horrors that plagued her. If he could, he would take all that pain away and give her back what she lost. But he can't. 

Yes, you can, his mind whispered to him. 

His heart pounded at the realization. 

Then a plan began to form.   
\--  
“I’m sorry, could you please repeat your previous statement,” Eugene requested, looking stunned. 

“I want you to send me back again,” Daryl repeated firmly. 

“But you fixed things,” Eugene said with a frown. 

“Not everything,” Daryl replied, thinking of Carol’s broken soul. He’d saved the body of the woman he cared about but inside, she was feeling like she was dead anyway. 

“I need you to send me back further.” 

Eugene watched him, looking nervous. He fiddled with the pen in his hand. 

“How far are we talkin’ here. A couple months…” 

“Back to the start,” Daryl cut him off. 

Eugene’s eyes widened and he dropped his pen. He blushed as he heard the clatter. He stooped to pick it up and then looked at Daryl again. 

“You mean...” 

“I mean right back to start. When this whole shitstorm began,” Daryl elaborated, cutting off Eugene again. The idea had come to him as he sat there, alone on the steps. He could go back and prevent every awful thing that ever happened to her since this whole thing began. 

“I see. Well, I think I get where you’re going with this. Problem is, that’s going back years,” Eugene started, looking deep in thought now. 

Daryl huffed. 

“Can you do it or not?” 

“Maybe,” Eugene answered. He looked deep in thought as he sat at his workbench. "Possibly. I'll go over some calculations. Give me a couple of days?" 

“Alright,” Daryl replied. He could work with that. “Thanks,” he added. As much as this man confused him, he had been the catalyst in saving Carol. 

Eugene nodded and Daryl quickly left the attic.   
\-----  
Carol slipped out of her room a little while after she left Daryl on the steps. She wanted to apologize for just running off like that. Her emotions had gotten the better of her but she felt bad for just leaving him there. She consulted Michonne and she’d told Carol that Daryl was still sitting outside. 

So she left the house, intent on telling him she was sorry but he wasn’t there. She looked around and spotted him walking down the street. She was about to call out to him but she stopped. He had turned onto a street he normally would not frequent. She frowned and hurried to follow. Her frown deepened as she watched him enter Eugene’s house. 

Daryl never went out of his way to talk to Eugene. She knew he found him exhausting. Even when they were required to work together, she’d seen the eye rolls and sighs of exasperation Daryl would express in response to the man. Why would he willingly go to Eugene’s house? 

Carol crept closer and hesitated before opening the door. If she was caught, she’d just play it off as a friendly visit, she told herself. Stepping inside, she saw that the cost was clear though. She looked around but the main house was empty. That left the attic where Eugene worked on whatever the hell he worked on. 

She moved up the stairs quietly and came to a door. She gingerly pressed her ear to it. All she could make out were muffled voices. The wood was too thick for her to properly make out the conversation. Feeling silly for trying to eavesdrop like a kid and not wanting to be caught, she slipped back downstairs. She left the house and decided to hide herself around the side. She’d wait until Daryl reappeared and see where he went next. 

Carol listened for any movement and it wasn't long until she heard the front door open and close. She watched Daryl walk away from Eugene’s house, back the way he came. She followed along, keeping a large space between them so he wouldn’t notice her following. But it seemed he was heading back to their house. She paused behind another house and watched as Daryl disappeared inside the one they shared with Michonne and the kids. 

Carol emerged from her hiding spot with a frown. 

What was going on here?


	6. Preparations and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl prepares to potentially travel back to the quarry. Then, he thinks about how his feelings for Carol developed over the years. 
> 
> Later he sits down for dinner with the family and Carol joins them for once. But what started as a happy affair doesn't end that way. 
> 
> When night comes, Daryl heads to Eugene's to go back in time again. 
> 
> But something unexpected happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,   
> I hope you like this chapter. It's extremely different from the first version. I hope you like the section with Daryl's thoughts because I warred with myself about including it. It seemed long winded and uneccessary at times to me but I decided to keep it in. 
> 
> Next chapter, Daryl will be in the past once more.

Daryl forced himself to leave Eugene be for a few days. It was difficult, though. He was getting antsy. He wanted to put his plans into action but he knew his presence was going to do nothing to help the man work. So he stayed away. 

The only time he’d seen Eugene was when he’d stopped by, wanting details on where Daryl had been back at the start. Daryl hadn’t bothered with telling him anything about where him and Merle were when it started. Instead, he told Eugene where the quarry was. That was where he needed to be. 

In the meantime, he set to work crafting arrows and compiling supplies. He still had no confirmation that this was even possible but he was preparing just in case. He didn’t bother with food. He would rely on hunting for that and they had been doing pretty well, overall, at the beginning. 

So, he focused on other practicalities, like medical supplies. He took some bandages, ointment, a suture kit and an assortment of painkillers and antibiotics. Medical supplies always ran low so he wasn’t taking chances with it. 

Daryl grabbed some handguns and knives to add to his haul. Those were not for him. They were for Carol and Sophia. He’d thought about it and realized he needed to teach them how to defend themselves. It had taken Carol far too long in the beginning to learn how to protect herself. If it wasn’t for her scream that night the farm fell, she would likely have not made it out. And Sophia? Sophia had never held a weapon in her hands. There could be no repeat of that this time. If he could get them comfortable around weapons early, it would be easier to keep them alive in the long run. 

His thoughts returned to Carol as they usually did. She had been acting strange since their conversation on the stairs. It was like she was watching him, like she was trying to figure something out about him. He’d catch her staring at him as he walked through the streets or he’d see her just turning away from her window up above. 

Daryl had considered the possibility that she’d worked out that he’d travelled in time. But how could she? His behavior had been weird but he’d given no evidence to suggest any association to time travel. It had to be something else, he’d reasoned with himself. Still, even with the suspicious air she seemed to regard him with, he enjoyed her presence when she graced him with it. Or even watching her from afar as she seemed to do to him lately. Because she was here. She was alive and more beautiful than he had ever realized. 

Daryl had known for a long time that the way he felt about her went beyond simple friendship. It had taken a while for him accept it. He’d spent a long while fighting it, trying to convince himself that there was nothing there except respect and friendship. Eventually, he could deny no longer that he loved her. 

When he had first encountered Carol at the quarry, he’d wanted to stop her husband. As soon as he saw the obvious signs of abuse, he had wanted to beat the fucker down. And he would have done it except Merle had seen what he’d intended to do. He’d told Daryl to leave it be. It weren’t their business and stepping in would just make things worse for that mama and her baby. It wasn’t hard for him to follow Merle’s advice. Back then, that was what he did. 

Growing up, he’d followed whatever his brother told him. Because Merle was the only one who’d ever been there for him. That’s what Daryl always told himself, even if there had been so much evidence to the contrary. Daryl had blindly followed Merle at various points of his life and more often than not, ended up in unsavory situations. But Daryl hadn’t seen it until his brother disappeared. 

So, even though it hadn’t sat right with him, he had done nothing. In fact, he’d avoided her and her girl like the plague. If he couldn’t do anything about it, he didn’t want to see it. Out of sight, out of mind, he’d told himself. So it was not until after her piece of shit husband was eaten by walkers, that he’d actually had a chance to interact with her and observe her properly. 

Daryl remembers the shock and the strange sensation of pride that overtook him as he watched her smash Ed’s brain in with a pickaxe. He hadn’t expected her to have the strength and courage to do such a thing. He’d written her off as weak and mouse-like. But watching her lift that heavy pick axe and bring it down again and again into the lump that used to be her husband, he’d realized he’d been wrong. There was more to her than he’d thought. 

Even he hadn’t been able to put his own abuser, his father, down when he’d been bitten. As much as he’d hated his father and had wished him dead so many times, it was overwhelming to be faced with the reality. Some part of him had always secretly hoped that maybe, one day, his daddy would change. That he’d become the kind of father he should always have been. So, he’d been useless, kneeling there and sobbing as he watched his dad bleed out. In the end it was his Uncle Jesse who’d had to end him. 

Ed had tormented Carol as much as Daryl’s father had tormented him. Maybe more. Yet, even while she cried openly, she’d been able to do it. In that moment, he was struck thinking this woman was stronger than him. He’d watched her pour all of her pain and anger into each swing of the pick axe in awe. Awe that someone so beaten down by the world, much like his mama, had been able to find strength to rise above it and follow through. 

After that, he found himself watching her more and more. Trying to figure out the puzzle of who this woman really was. All the while, he’d tried to reason with himself about it. Told himself it was just curiosity. Nothing more to it. The weird fluttering in his heart and stomach whenever he looked at her meant nothing. Then Sophia had gone missing and everything changed. 

Daryl hadn’t shown it, but he’d even been a little panicked when he learned the little girl had run off. As confident as he’d been in finding her, he’d known there was a chance he wouldn’t. That forest could have been teeming with walkers and Sophia was tiny. Had no weapons or nothing. So when Rick had emerged empty-handed, he’d stepped up immediately to help track her. 

He had not expected the reaction it would bring forth from Carol. He had returned with Rick to the highway and explained the situation, nothing special about it at all. However, Carol had turned those soulful eyes on him and thanked him so sincerely. It was the first form of gratitude he could remember receiving in his adult life. So taken aback by it, the only thing he had been able to do was nod awkwardly at her. 

The gratitude awakened something in him though. He became more determined than ever to return that little girl to her mother. He’d found himself wanting to be better, wanting to be a hero even as stupid as it had sounded to him at the time. So, each time he was unsuccessful, it reminded him over and over that this wasn’t who he was. He was no hero and never would be. 

The Cherokee rose had been a last ditch effort. He had been searching everyday and had been so frustrated at the lack of any progress. Carol was losing hope. He had seen it and that had made his throat feel tight. As much as he’d tried to think of the right words, he had had nothing to offer to comfort her or give her hope. 

But then, when he walked out that abandoned farm house and saw the little white flowers, he thought he’d found the answer. As he crouched near them, he remembered the tale his grandfather had told him about the legend of the flower. A legend so fitting and hopefully powerful enough to lift her spirits a bit. He remembers shoving one in his pocket, feeling like a damn fool. But it was all he could do. He’d tried to find something nice to put it in. A vase or even a glass. All he could find were empty beer bottles. So with no other option, he’d stuck the flower in the bottle and approached the RV. 

Daryl had felt like apologizing as soon as he’d put the thing on the table. Carol had frowned, looking so taken aback. He had started to inwardly berate himself. Calling himself a dumbass for thinking a stupid flower was going to make her feel better. But then she said ‘A flower?’ looking merely curious, not judging him like he had thought. So he had explained and once he’d finished speaking, she’d smiled. It was the first time he’d ever seen her smile. While teary, it had been a surprisingly beautiful thing to witness. It lit up her whole face. It had left his stomach all in knots and he’d left the RV feeling confused about his reaction. 

Daryl’s confusion only grew as they camped out on that farm. He’d go out and look for the girl, trying not to think about her mother. Wondering why the woman was consuming his thoughts so much. He hadn’t known back then that it was love blossoming inside of him. Love towards the kind, quiet woman who looked to him with so much hope. That was why he’d tried so hard to push her away. He hadn’t known how to deal with that feeling. 

Carol wouldn’t leave him alone though. She kept coming back, even after he called her a bitch, after he said other awful things to her. The last straw for him had been the night she’d come to his camp. The flinch as he got up in her face haunted him for a long time. She’d thought he was going to hit her and she would have let him. He’d never raised his voice at her again. Never approached her with such anger. He’d never wanted to see that acceptance on her face again. He wasn’t like his daddy. He would never lay a hand on her like that. 

In a way, that night had made things easier going forward. Their interactions became less strained and he started to accept that he cared for her. Platonically, he’d assured himself. There was nothing wrong with him being her friend. But even with this assurance to himself, he’d felt other things about her. Things that he had never felt in all of his life. But he’d pushed them down. Refused to give them airtime in his head. 

It was not until he’d thought he’d lost her in the tombs that he realized he loved her. Finding that scarf near T-Dog’s mangled corpse was painful. He had been smiling and laughing with her the day earlier while she wore it. He had twisted it around his hands, mind warring with the knowledge that she must be gone. He had controlled himself though. Would not let anyone see how hard it was hitting him. 

When he’d had a moment of time to himself, he’d slipped away for a cigarette. But he never even managed to light it because he’d found himself crying unexpectedly. Big, fat tears had coursed down his face and he’d choked and gasped through the sobs that wracked his body. He didn’t know how long he’d stayed that way but when he finally calmed some, he had wiped his face, wondering why her death was the one that hit him so hard. He’d placed the Cherokee rose on her grave as a last gesture, still unable to accept that she was gone but knowing he had no choice. 

Then he’d found her knife. He’d stared at the blade in his hand in confusion. The confusion morphed quickly into hope as he wiped the walker guts off it. He’d gone searching, knowing it was likely a lost cause but needing to know for sure. He’d found himself sitting across from that door that tried to open on its own. He’d stabbed the knife in the floor and the walls, trying to work up the courage to open it. Worrying what he’d find within. He’d not wanted to see her as one of those things. To not see the bright sparkle in her eyes. 

Upon tearing the door open, he’d stared in shock as she turned her tired face toward him. He’d examined her disbelievingly. He’d had to convince himself further so he’d reached out a hand and tilted her face up. But her skin had been warm under his hand and he’d seen no signs of bites on her. He’d picked her up, feeling her head slump into his chest, and carried her out of the tombs. 

Later, as she reunited with Rick and the others, he’d watched, feeling his face ache from the smile that wouldn’t leave him. As he watched her coo over Judith, he’d found himself thinking a crazy thing. He remembers quite clearly the words ‘I love her’ passing through his brain. He also remembers the tiny war he’d had against the thought but as he continued to watch her smile and fawn over the baby, he’d given up pretty quickly. With his heart beating out of his chest, he’d nodded subtly to himself. ‘I love her.’ 

Daryl had hidden those feelings for years, knowing there was no way Carol could ever return them. But that was okay to him. All he needed was for her to be safe and alive. If she remained that way, nothing else mattered. He couldn’t deny that sometimes he wished things were different. Wished he were different. Less broken, more confident, attractive. Things that might have helped her to reciprocate his feelings. But he wasn’t different. He was still the same as he ever had been deep down. Underneath the growth he’d achieved in this new world, he was still the same twitchy, fucked up Daryl Dixon through and through. There’s no way Carol could ever see him as anything besides a friend. 

Dragging himself from his melancholy thoughts, he considered once more the possibility of returning to the start. Daryl’s stomach twisted. Going back a month ago had been strange enough. Like an out of body experience. Going back that many years? Daryl shook his head. It wasn’t going to be a picnic that was for sure. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d be faced with ghosts. People who had long lost their lives. And the concept honestly unnerved him. Still, he prayed Eugene could get this to work. 

The woman he loved had become a shell of herself. Didn’t even trust herself anymore. If he could go back, he could fix things for Carol. Make it so that none of that bad shit ever happened to her. He could save Sophia this time. Turn the empty promises he’d made to her on that farm into reality. He could save Henry. Kill that bitch, Alpha so she’d never have a chance to get her hands on Carol’s boy. Neither of them would have to die.   
\----  
Daryl was sitting on his couch, sharpening one of his knives. Dog was chewing on a deer bone in the corner. Daryl smirked at the soft noises that were escaping him. But then he jumped as a knock started on his door. There weren’t many who sought him out in his room. Daryl stood and moved over to the door. He opened it and his lips lifted. Judith stood there with her hat firmly in place on her head, a sweet smile on her face. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked her. 

She thrust her hand out. In it was a slip of paper. He took it from her. 

“What’s this?” 

“Eugene bumped into me on my way back from Gracie’s. Asked if I could give it to you,” Judith explained simply. 

Daryl didn’t move to open the note, he just nodded. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. You going to come up for dinner later? Mom said she’d let me help!” she gushed, looking excited by the prospect. 

Daryl chuckled. 

“Sure. Wouldn’t miss it.” 

Judith grinned.

“Great. I’ll see you later, then. I promised RJ that we could read a book after lunch.” 

Daryl nodded and watched her run off out of his room. He brought the note out and opened it. It read: 

‘Mission is a go. Meet me in my workshop.’ 

Daryl snorted a bit. Workshop might be a stretch. The attic kind of bordered on a hoarder’s den. He stuck the note in his pocket and paused to pet Dog on the head. ‘Mission is a go.’ That’s what the note said. That meant this was really happening. 

“You be good,” he told Dog, who panted happily. 

Daryl left his room, leaving the door ajar so Dog could let someone know if he had to go to the bathroom. He forced himself to walk at a steady pace as he moved through the house. He didn’t want to call attention to himself. He nodded to Judith and RJ before heading out the front door.. Then he made his way to the lair of that strange, strange man.   
\----  
Daryl entered the attic. The giddy feeling wouldn’t seem to leave him. He couldn’t tell if he was more nervous or excited. Probably nervous. The excitement was because of how much he wanted to make things better for Carol. And that would only happen if he succeeded in changing things. So, yeah, nervous was probably the bigger one. Eugene smiled at him as he walked in. He was standing in front of the workbench with a screwdriver in hand. The backpack was on the table. 

“Hey,” Daryl said after a moment of staring. 

“Hey,” Eugene replied casually. “Glad you got my note. I know you’ve probably been anxiously waiting for answers.” 

“Your note seemed to imply that you got some.” 

“Indeed. I’ve been going over things all night. My calculations have proved to be almost one hundred percent,” the excitement was clear in his voice as he spoke. 

“Right. So this will work?” Daryl asked 

“Indeed it will,” Eugene said before pausing. “I mean, there are always probabilities of wires getting crossed in the science of it all, but if my calculations are correct, and I don’t mind saying, they usually are, this should all go down smoother than a baby’s caboose.” 

Daryl shook his head at the man’s ridiculous way of speaking. 

“Alright, so when can we do it?” 

“Well, whenever it tickles your fancy really,” Eugene shrugged, “I didn’t have to do much more than I did for your first trip, just tweak the input calculations a little.”

Daryl nodded in time with Eugene’s words. 

“I’ll come back tonight. After dark,” Daryl decided. He wanted to go now but he’d promise Judith he’d come to dinner. Maybe he could even convince Carol to join them. 

“Not a problem. I’ll go over everything again. Make sure there won’t be any nasty surprises,” Eugene said, already turning back to the workbench.   
\-----  
Carol frowned from behind a house as Daryl walked away from Eugene’s place. She hadn’t bothered to sneak in, knowing she wouldn’t hear anything. 

What the hell was he doing? It was strange enough for Daryl to visit Eugene in the first place but for it to happen more than once? 

Carol shook her head. She needed to ask him about it. She couldn’t keep following him around. There was probably a good explanation for all of this. But why did it look so secretive? She’d seen Daryl look around before entering the house, as if checking to see if he’d been followed. She’d never seen him act so suspicious. 

Carol moved from her hiding spot and regarded Eugene’s home. She could go up there and demand answers from him. She knew she’d probably be able to intimidate the man enough that he would cave. 

But she wanted Daryl to tell her. She didn’t know what this was and she didn’t want to make him angry but going behind his back with this. She’d done that too much lately. So she started back to the house, keeping her pace slow so she wouldn’t catch up to Daryl. 

Tonight she was going to get some answers, she thought with determination. 

She waited until he slipped inside the house before doing the same. She followed the sounds of voices to the kitchen. Michonne and the kids were grinning and laughing about something. Daryl was there too. He had a small smile on his face. It stayed in place as he turned to her. 

“Hey,” Daryl greeted her warmly.

“Hey,” Carol replied, trying to appear casual. 

Michonne, RJ and Judith smiled at her in greeting. She returned it mutedly. Things had been a bit strained between her and Michonne. The kids were fine with her but Michonne had made it clear that she’d become tired of Carol’s reckless tendencies. 

“Where were you? Was about to come get you for dinner,” Daryl said from his seat at the table. 

“Just went for a walk,” she lied. 

Daryl nodded, seemingly believing it. 

“Come sit down. Asskicker made us dinner.” 

Carol grinned at the nickname. 

“Did she now?” Carol replied with a look to the girl. 

“No, she did not,” Michonne chimed in with a laugh. “She ‘helped’ make dinner.” 

Judith smiled sheepishly. 

“It’s not like I’d burn down the house or anything,” she protested. 

“That’s what you say until you do. So, until I know you’re responsible enough near an open flame, you leave the cooking to the grownups,” Michonne said with a teasing quality to her words. 

Judith pouted. 

“Fine.” 

Carol controlled her laughter that wanted to break free. She was so like Carl when he was younger sometimes. Always wanted to act more grown than she was. Rick would be so proud of her. Carol swallowed down the emotions that accompanied the thoughts about their lost family. She took the empty seat beside Daryl. 

The dinner was nice and simple. The conversation was lively and Carol felt a little lighter than she had in a while. Even Michonne had been warmer towards her, making Carol think   
that maybe this rift between them had passed. 

Carol caught Daryl sneaking glances at her throughout the meal. Whenever she’d turn to look at him, he’d blush and look away. But the strange smile on his face seemed permanent. She didn’t know what to make of it. He’d been smiling more and more lately. More than he ever had before, if she was honest. 

Daryl had such a nice smile. Such a genuine one. He only smiled when he really meant it. When she’d first known him, she’d thought it wasn’t possible for him to smile. He’d always stomped around with a permanent scowl on his face. But then, as they became friends, she saw it more and more. His smile was usually hardly more than a slight lift of his lips. The kids seemed to bring out more from him. Even got him to show his teeth sometimes. This smile that she’d seen on him the last few days was something different. It seemed to light up his whole face. And she didn’t know what brought it on. 

After dinner, Michonne put RJ to bed and Judith insisted on playing a card game with Daryl. Carol had sat there and watched with a smirk as the little girl beat him in three games. He’d huffed and complained but she’d seen the joy in his eyes. He really loved that kid. 

When Michonne returned downstairs, she told Judith it was time for bed. The girl groaned and begged for more time but a warning look from her mother told her she wasn’t getting her way. Judith gave both Carol and Daryl a hug before leaving the room. Michonne bid them goodnight and slipped away to bed.

“Should probably get some sleep too,” Daryl told her as he made to stand. 

Carol’s hand shot out and closed around his wrist. His head turned to her in confusion as he halted in his seat. She released him sheepishly. She hadn’t meant to grab him. She’d just wanted to ensure he didn’t leave. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” she said haltingly. 

Daryl settled himself again, angling his body towards her. 

“Alright. What’s up?” he said, sounding ready to talk about whatever she wanted. 

Carol stared at him, trying to uncover the secret on her own. But of course, she couldn’t 

“Why are you visiting Eugene?” the question blurts out of her with less finesse than she’d planned. She mentally face palms at her tactflessness. 

Daryl blinked. 

“How’d you know I’ve been visitin’ Eugene?” he asked, his tone wary.

Carol swallowed nervously. She couldn’t tell if he was upset by her prying. So far, he still just looked surprised by the fact that she’d brought up the subject. 

“I was walking home one night and I saw you. And then…” 

“And then?” he prompted. 

“And then today I followed you,” she confessed guiltily. 

Daryl chewed his lip as he seemed to think. 

“Why’d you follow me?” he asked with no anger in his voice. 

Carol sighed, some of her tension leaving her in the wake of his calm demeanor. 

“Because I was confused. You don’t just go stopping in for chat with Eugene.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Daryl asked, logically. 

He was right. Why didn’t she just ask him? Why did she sneak after him and hide in the bushes like a woman trying to catch her husband with a lover. She snorted at the thought before sobering. She knew the answer: She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. 

“I don’t know,” she replied weakly. “I guess I didn’t think you’d tell me.” 

Daryl nodded but didn’t look happy with her words. In fact, his eyes had taken on a sad quality. Her words had hurt him. She didn’t know why her confession had hurt him so but she still felt guilty for it. She hurried to explain her actions as a way of distracting herself. 

“The only reason I want to know is because I’m worried. It’s not like you to be this secretive.”

Daryl sighed and drummed his fingers on the table in front of him lightly. 

“Not tryin’ to be secretive,” he told her.

She let her eyes run over his face and she could tell he wasn’t being completely honest with her. 

"Just… I’m helpin’ him with somethin’. Somethin’ he don’t want no one to know about,” Daryl continued quietly, not meeting her eyes directly. 

He was lying to her, she realized. This made her heart pound in her chest. The only time she could remember Daryl lying to her was back when she’d confined herself to the little house outside the Kingdom. When he’d neglected to tell about Glenn and Abraham. 

What could he be hiding that was so awful that he thought he had to lie about it?

“You sure that’s all it is?” she asked, giving him the chance to change his mind. 

Daryl’s eyes searched her face for a long moment before he nodded. 

“That’s it.” 

Carol could feel tears pricking at her eyes. There was no way he couldn’t have seen the out she’d tried to give him. And he’d ignored it. 

“Okay. I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight,” she said in a rush. 

Carol practically leapt from her seat and hurried from the room, not even looking at him. She couldn’t because she knew it would make her tears come harder. She needed to lock herself in the safety of her room before she broke down. 

“Carol!” she heard him call from behind her but she didn’t stop. 

As soon as her door closed, she sunk down against it, burying her face in her hands. The tears starting pouring down her face, making her hands wet. Daryl’s refusal to tell her what was really going on just added more proof to what she’d feared. 

She’d lost him.   
\-----  
Daryl entered Eugene’s attic once more. After Carol had left, he’d been filled with guilt. He’d wanted to run after her and tell her everything. But he stopped himself. He couldn’t tell her the truth. How could he? How could he explain that she’d died and he’d had to go back in time to save her? 

So he’d let her be. He needed to go to Eugene. That was what was important right now and he’d delayed more than he’d meant to by indulging Judith. Saving Carol’s daughter would be enough to make it up to her, he hoped. 

Eugene was fiddling with the backpack when he arrived, and he looked up at Daryl momentarily before concentrating on the machine once more. 

“Just finishing up some adjustments.” 

Daryl nodded. 

“Was thinkin’,” he started, making Eugene glance over at him. “You think I could take my bike?” 

Eugene’s brow furrowed. He didn’t reply straight away. 

“Just… I remember how hard it was to find working motors back then. Gonna need some way to get here and there,” Daryl explained, feeling stupid. It probably wasn’t even possible. But he’d thought about it a lot. If he made it back there, everyone had their own vehicles. He’d be left walking everywhere and that wasn’t practical. 

“You like keeping me on my toes, don’t you?” Eugene said with smirk finally. 

“If it ain’t gonna work, forget it.” 

“I didn’t say that,” Eugene placated him. “Take a seat and I’ll see if it’s possible.” 

Daryl nodded and sat in the armchair he’d sat in on his other visits. Surprisingly, this time he wasn’t showered in dust. Apparently Eugene had cleaned it off. 

Daryl watched him quietly as he poured over his notebook, using a pen to scribble something now and then. Sometimes he’d pause, shake his head and cross something out. After some time, he sat back. 

“You’re in luck, my friend. Looks like, as long as you’re in contact with the bike, it should go along with you,” Eugene said with a smile. 

Daryl blew out a breath. Well, that would solve a lot of issues. 

“Good, it’s downstairs. Parked it out back in case I could bring it.” 

“Always prepared,” Eugene commented. He handed Daryl the backpack. 

“Well, you know what to do. The rest’ll be up to you to decide.” 

Daryl nodded and pulled the bag onto his back. He turned to the door but Eugene’s voice called him to a stop. 

“There’s just one little problem…” 

Daryl turned to regard the man. 

“What problem?”

Eugene gave him a look of chagrin. 

“Well, it’s about the return co-ordinates,” Eugene paused to take a breath, “I was able to enter them in but there’s a glitch in the system. It’s like it’s rejecting those co-ordinates.” 

Daryl frowned. 

“What does that mean?” 

“Simply put, I don’t know if you’ll be able to come back,” Eugene confessed, looking defeated.

Daryl allowed this information to absorb. He might not be able to come back. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He’d potentially never see anyone he knew again. At least not   
the way he knew them now. It was a big sacrifice. He’d never see Judith and RJ, or even Michonne again. He’d never see Carol again. He would see her as she once was, of course, but the woman she was now? She would be lost to him. It was a hard sell. But then he remembered the tears, the blank looks, the days locked in her room. He shook his head. That’s why he was doing this. To make things better for her. He needed to make this sacrifice.

“Not turnin’ back now,” Daryl finally said. He walked out of the room with purpose. 

“Good luck!” Eugene called after him. 

Daryl went downstairs and out the backdoor. His bike sat on its kickstand, waiting. He’d already loaded his supplies into the saddle bags earlier when the thought of taking his bike had occurred to him. If it hadn’t been possible, he’d reasoned that it was just as easy to take them back out. He swung his leg over the bike and settled onto it. He kept one hand firmly on one handlebar while the other came up to the strap of the backpack. He brushed his thumb over the white button gently, hesitating. He took a moment to silently say goodbye to all he was leaving behind. Hoping that he could make a better future for everybody, not just Carol. 

Daryl pressed the button, waiting for the darkness to fall over him again. But nothing happened. He frowned. Eugene had said it would work. Daryl was about to press the button again but a sound distracted him. Footsteps. His head snapped up. Carol stood there, watching him with confusion. She must have snuck in the same way he’d snuck his bike in. 

“What are you doing?” she asked him, her eyes darting to his bike momentarily. 

Daryl didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t thought she’d follow him again. But he guessed she’d seen him walking his bike down the street from her window. Her face was red, letting know that she had been crying. He felt guilty all over again. He should have gone after her. 

“I…” he said, trying to think of what he could say.

Anything he might have said died on his lips. Something was happening. He could feel a strange sensation. One he was familiar with. 

Shit. 

It was happening. 

It must have been delayed or something. He’d been sure when he pushed the button and it didn’t happen straight away that he’d need to head back up to see Eugene. However, he guessed it made sense that it took longer to work. This wasn’t some quick hop back a month ago. This was near ten years. Sure picked a damn nice time to start working though. 

“Carol,” he started. He wanted to tell her something before he disappeared but it was too late. 

All he saw was a glimpse of her wide eyes. All he heard was her panicked cry of his name. And then he was slipping back into that dark, inky place.


	7. Deja Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl is back at the quarry. He comes face to face with Ed Peletier and that goes about as well as you would think. 
> 
> Then another ghost appears. 
> 
> Shane Walsh. 
> 
> Daryl has to think of a way to convince the former cop to trust him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.   
> Sorry for the cliff hanger at the end of the last chapter. But here we are! Back in the past. I ended up changing this chapter a lot more than I thought I would. 
> 
> Hope you like it. If you did, consider leaving a comment.

Daryl was blind once more. The nothing he had experienced only twice before, still unnerved him. It was as if his eyes were closed and he had a blindfold on. That is until the shapes and colours started to appear. First blurry and then more solid. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dark away quicker. He could already feel his stomach rolling. 

Finally, he could see something. Trees. As his vision cleared, he spotted more and more of them. He was in the woods. That did not exactly tell him where he was though. He looked around trying to catch any kind of sign of where he could be. There was none. Just endless woods, it seemed. 

As he took in his surroundings, he thought back to what had happened before he had arrived here. He’d disappeared right in front of Carol. He’d known it was about to happen but he’d hoped to at least give her some kind of explanation. He’d disappeared too quickly for even that. No doubt, the sight of him vanishing would have scared the shit out of her. There was nothing he could do about it now. He had to push on with his plans. 

He lifted himself from the bike and grabbed his bow from where it was tethered to the back. His eyes scanned the ground. He spotted a few trails but they were clearly walker made. Nothing worth tracking. 

Daryl glanced back at his bike and then at the straps of the backpack. Probably should hide them, he realised. It wouldn’t end well if someone got a hold of the time machine. Nor would it be good if anyone pilfered his supplies. He walked his bike and laid it on the ground near some bushes. He tossed the backpack down beside it. Then he grabbed some fallen branches and leaves and piled them on top until they were concealed to his satisfaction. 

Daryl brought his bow up once more and stalked through the woods. He kept his eyes on the forest floor for any signs of people. So far, there didn’t seem to be anything but animal and walker tracks. As he walked further and further from the spot he’d arrived, he noticed something up ahead. 

Tents. 

He quickened his pace, keeping it light and quiet. Upon closer inspection, he recognized them. This was not the main camp. This was the smaller area where he and Merle had set up. They’d wanted to be as far from the main group as possible. 

The thought of Merle caused his chest to tighten. He hadn’t considered the fact that his brother would still be alive. He remembered the sight of Merle stumbling towards him, face covered in gore, eyes blank. He shook his head to clear the image. He would save him. Make sure things happened differently. He turned his attention back to the little campsite. 

Along with the tent he and Merle shared, there were a few others. People who hadn’t wanted to be part of the main camp. Carol was one of them. Well, her piece of shit husband had clearly been the one who’d made the decision and Carol had followed along with it dutifully. After Ed died, she’d taken a smaller tent from Dale for her and Sophia and moved into the main camp. 

Daryl’s ears pricked up as he heard a small cry. Then another. It seemed to be coming from one of the tents he had been staring at in contemplation. Daryl frowned, straining to hear better. He shuffled closer. 

“Please, I’m sorry!”

His heart stuttered as he recognized the voice. 

Carol. 

She sounded so afraid and from her voice, he could tell she was crying. 

“Shut up, you useless bitch!” came the scathing reply. 

He recognized that voice too. Ed. 

Daryl heard Carol let out another cry. His blood boiled as rage began to overtake him. That bastard was not going to get away with hurting her anymore. He stormed into the camp and approached the familiar tent. 

Carol’s cries were louder now that he was close. He could also hear the impact of flesh on flesh that was hauntingly familiar. He had heard it enough as a child when his daddy would beat him mama. His hands clenched around his bow. He shoved the flaps covering the opening of the tent aside. The sight that greeted him intensified his rage even further. 

Carol was sobbing on the ground, clutching the sides of her shirt. It was ripped down the middle and she was trying to close it to cover the off-white bra she had underneath. There were clear bruises on her arms and face.

Ed stood over her with his fist raised, about to deliver another blow onto the innocent woman below him. However, Daryl’s appearance on the scene had frozen him in place. Carol was staring at him with wide eyes too. She was looking at him as if he were a hallucination. 

“Who the hell are--“Ed tried to say but Daryl was already slamming the stock of the crossbow into the side of his face. 

Ed stumbled and fell to the ground. He coughed out a mouthful of blood onto the floor of the tent. He heard Carol gasp but Daryl didn’t turn to look at her. He looped his bow over his head to rest on his back. He didn’t need it to take care of this piece of shit. 

Daryl dropped to the ground, moving to Ed. He rained down blows with his fists and felt his knuckles crack and tear open. The pain only spurred him onwards. He wasn’t stopping until the son of a bitch was dead. 

Ed’s face had begun to blacken with bruises and swell in places. Blood was flowing freely from multiple wounds where his skin had exploded open. Daryl took in the sight with satisfaction. Ed had likely inflicted similar injuries on Carol over the years. On his part, Ed did not even try to fight back. All he did was weakly push out his arms and try to cover himself. 

Daryl reached down, freeing one of his knives from his belt and brought it up, ready to deliver the killing blow. He wanted to torture him some more but he knew he needed to just do the world a favour and end the sick fuck already. Ed’s eyes widened with terror. 

“No! Stop!” he heard from behind him and there was a small hand wrapped around his arm. 

Daryl turned his head and met Carol’s tear-filled gaze. 

“Please,” she sobbed as she looked between the knife and her pathetic husband. 

Part of him wanted to just do it. She might be protesting now but Carol had told him how much she had wished someone had killed Ed. How much she had wanted to kill him herself. Nevertheless, hearing her pleading voice hit him somewhere deep. 

Daryl dropped his arm and replaced his knife into its sheath. He backed off the spluttering man beneath him. Carol scrambled on her hands and knees over to Ed and started trying to staunch the blood seeping from his wounds with her ruined shirt. He could hear her murmuring apologies to him. 

Daryl had to remind himself that this was not his Carol. This Carol was terrified of the man she tended to and, obviously, feared the fallout of Daryl’s intervention. He sighed and exited the tent. He started to walk back the way he came. 

“Stop right there!” came a voice he never thought he would hear again. 

Shane Walsh. 

The former cop had his gun poised in front of him, pointed right at Daryl’s head. 

Well, this is just fucking great, Daryl thought to himself. Of all the people to run into, it had to be the most volatile of them all. He knew that Shane had not been so bad back here at the quarry. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help remembering how he was at the farm. Picking fights, stirring up trouble, killing people. That man was still there below the surface, even now. 

Daryl lifted his bow over his head and dropped it to the ground. He saw Shane glance at the knives on his belt and he sighed. Daryl reached down slowly and freed both from their sheaths before tossing them to the ground next to his bow. He raised his hands in front of him. Shane eyed him distrustfully, gun held firmly in place. 

“Who the hell are you?” he asked in a no nonsense tone. 

This wasn’t going to go over well, Daryl knew. He supposed he could figure out a cover story. He might have done so if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with rearranging Ed’s face. As it was, he didn’t have any story whatsoever. Which is why his reply was incredibly simple. 

“Daryl.” 

Shane frowned, eyes searching him again. 

Daryl could see the confusion building in Shane’s expression. 

“Daryl Dixon,” he clarified, internally wincing as he always did when he had to mention his surname. It was just a constant reminder of the family he’d been born into. Shane’s eyebrows flew upwards. 

“You tryin’ to be funny, man? I know Daryl Dixon. You ain’t him.” 

However, even as Shane spoke, Daryl could see how he was second-guessing the statement. Daryl knew he looked wildly different from how he did at this time. His hair was longer for one thing and he’d filled out more. But his face was ultimately the same, albeit a touch older. Shane couldn’t dispute that. 

“Have a good look,” Daryl invited, using one hand to push his hair back further, trying to help the former cop make the distinction. 

Shane took a step forward. He squinted a little as he tilted his head. 

“How the hell is this possible?” he asked. The question seemed to be directed more to himself than Daryl. 

“Look, short version is, I’m Daryl Dixon from the future,” Daryl explained, knowing how it sounded. 

Shane leaned back. 

“You expect me to believe that?” he said with a glare. 

“I don’t expect you to believe nothing. But it’s the truth,” Daryl replied, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. 

Shane scoffed. 

“Man, turn around and show me your hands.” 

Daryl sighed and turned. He felt Shane grab his wrists and felt the metal close around them. Handcuffs. 

“Now, you cooperate and we won’t have any problems, you got it?” Shane asked from behind him. 

“Yeah, I got it.” 

Daryl didn’t try to resist as Shane led him away through the campsite. As he was passing Carol’s tent again, he found himself making eye contact with her. She was standing just at the entrance of the tent. There were still tears on her face but she was no longer crying. As Shane shoved him along, he could have sworn she’d given him a tiny smile. 

Shane walked him all the way to the outskirts of camp. He unlocked one handcuff so he could arrange Daryl’s arms behind him and around the base of a tree. Shane locked the handcuffs once more before stepping back. 

“I’ll be back in a little while and then we can talk some more,” he said. 

“You just gonna leave me out here with no weapons to defend myself?” Daryl asked, unable to help his glare at the man. 

“You’ll be fine. We ain’t had no walkers pass through here in a good while,” Shane replied, sounding sure of that. 

Daryl huffed. He could only hope it was not the day that the herd busted into camp. That would definitely put a wrench in his plans. He watched Shane walk off, back towards the camp. 

Daryl shifted, feeling the pull on his arms. The tree base was luckily on the smaller size compared to some of the others, so his arms weren’t straining as much as they could be. Still, it wasn’t comfortable. He could feel the metal of the cuffs digging into his wrists. He tried not to tug on them too much to avoid cutting his skin open. 

Daryl didn’t know how he was going to convince Shane that he was telling the truth. He had no evidence to offer the man. He couldn’t exactly explain the science either. Not that he’d expect Shane to understand that any more than Daryl himself did. All he had was his face and his words. Which really left him down to his face because he was never good at the words part. 

At some point, he ended up dozing off. He knew it had to be the time travelling effect. There’s no way he’d fall asleep like that when he was so unguarded otherwise. He was woken by a hand roughly slapping him on the cheek. His eyes flew open and he tried to shoot to his feet but his arms pulled, reminding him of his situation. 

“Good. You’re awake,” Shane commented with his hands on his hips. “So, let’s try this again. Who are you?” 

Daryl sighed. 

“I told you. Daryl.” 

Daryl knew he couldn’t really blame Shane for the confusion and hostility he was displaying. If this same thing happened to him, he’d likely have reacted similarly. 

“You can’t be. There’s no way you’re the same man,” Shane argued, voice rising in volume. “Now, I’ll admit, there’s some resemblance there. So what is it? You a relative of his?” 

Daryl sighed again. This was pointless. There’s no way he was going to convince Shane he was from the future. If he just went along with it and said he was related to himself, maybe he could get out of this. 

“Yeah,” he replied grudgingly. “He’s my brother. Him and Merle.” 

Shane narrowed his eyes. 

“What the hell was that bull you were spouting about the future then?” 

Daryl made himself shrug. 

“Thought it might be funny. Freak my brothers out if they heard it. I’ve seen pictures of Daryl and I know he looks like me.” 

He forced himself to hold eye contact with Shane, knowing if his gaze faltered, he’d be found out as a liar. 

“Jesus,” Shane muttered. He glared at Daryl. “You know how stupid that is? I could have killed you, man?” 

Daryl ducked his head as if he was feeling guilty for his actions. 

“Sorry,” he said, keeping it simple to not dig himself into a hole. 

Shane sighed and shifted his stance. He eyed Daryl. 

“So what’s your real name?” 

Fuck. 

His real name. He didn’t think of that. How the hell was he going to think of a name? He couldn’t take long or Shane would know he was lying. His mind scrambled before he   
remembered the tattoo over his heart. 

“Norman,” he answered finally. It was the name of his grandfather. One of the best men he’d ever known, his grandpa was. Taught him how to hunt and track. Certainly raised him better than his daddy ever did. Daryl had been devastated when Grandpa Norman died when he was fourteen. 

“Norman Dixon?” Shane asked, for confirmation. 

Daryl nodded. 

Shane inclined his head. He brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. 

Daryl shifted against the tree. He didn’t know what was going to happen now. He was completely at Shane’s mercy. 

Shane eyed him again. He seemed to be considering him. Seeing if he was a threat. 

“Look, I know you got no reason to trust me, but I ain’t gonna hurt no one. I just came to find my brothers. Heard they headed out this way,” Daryl told him, trying to help his   
case. He didn’t know why but the lies were coming easier now. Easier than they ever had for him. 

Shane took his words in and seemed to roll them around in his head. After a long while of enduring Shane’s stare, the man approached the tree. He ducked down and Daryl felt Shane’s hands on his wrists. He heard a click and then his arms were released from their strained position. He sighed in relief and brought his hands around to the front. Shane stepped back in front of him. 

“Look, I’m going out on a limb here, man. I got people in this camp to protect. So, you best believe that I’ll be keeping an eye on you. You make one wrong move and I won’t hesitate, you got it?” Shane said with conviction. 

“I get it. It’s a good thing you’re lookin’ out for these people. Don’t blame you for being cautious,” Daryl replied, trying to offer the man a compliment to calm him. 

Shane’s stance relaxed a touch. A moment later, he offered a hand to Daryl. Daryl eyed it with surprise before grasping it with his own. Shane helped him to his feet. 

“Your brothers ain’t here right now,” Shane said when he was upright again. “Merle went on a run into the city and Daryl’s out on a hunt.” 

Daryl already knew this, of course, but he nodded to Shane. 

“Alright. Thanks.” 

Shane nodded and turned, looking ready to leave the scene. 

“Hey,” Daryl called to him. Shane paused and turned his head. “You got my bow and my knives?” 

Shane hesitated and Daryl knew he was considering whether Daryl should have his weapons back. 

“Up at the main camp there’s an RV. Dropped them off there,” Shane finally told him. 

Daryl nodded, grateful that they hadn’t been left in the middle of nowhere. Shane didn’t wait around. He turned and walked off. 

Daryl flexed his wrists and glanced down. They were red but thankfully, he hadn’t broken the skin. He was still amazed that the lies he’d told had gone over so well with Shane. He guessed it was probably easier for the man to believe than the concept of time travel. Daryl started to walk in the direction Shane had gone. He needed to get his weapons back and start doing what he’d planned to do. 

Watch over Carol and Sophia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. 
> 
> How do you feel about Daryl having to pose as Norman lol? 
> 
> I just decided there was no way Shane was going to believe he was from the future. I decided to say the 'Norman' tattoo on his chest refers to his grandfather. I've seen it used that way in other fics but I figured its something that works well. 
> 
> To me, it's the only thing that makes sense for Daryl. To have a man's name on his chest. We know in reality it refers to Norman's own father but Daryl's father is out because he was an asshole. So, I figured, because Daryl's past is pretty ambiguous, grandfather would work nicely. 
> 
> I hope you don't mind the changes I've made. If you've read the previous version of this, you know that in this chapter, Daryl speaks to Carol and Sophia. Don't worry. Those interactions will still happen. Just at a different point in time. 
> 
> I hate to beg, but I'd love to hear what you guys think. Please consider leaving a comment. Or even just a kudos.


	8. The Truth and Travel Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Carol learns the truth of Daryl's secrets. Then, she gets ready to make her own trip in time. When she arrives, things don't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,   
> This one is completely new. This never appeared in the first version of the story at all. It's entirely from Carol's point of view. Future Carol, that is. I just thought it would be a nice tie in for her making her own trip back to the past. But she won't get to meet up with Daryl just yet.

Carol lifted herself from the floor, her limbs protesting as she did. She had cried herself silly for what felt like hours. She could feel the tears drying on her cheeks and she sighed. All she seemed to do these days was cry. She swiped at her face with her hands before starting towards the bathroom, intent on washing her face properly. She paused in her trek though. Movement outside the window had caught her attention. She moved closer and looked outside. She frowned. 

Daryl was walking down the street. Not exactly anything odd about that. What was strange was the fact that he was walking his bike along with him. Daryl only moved his bike when he was heading outside the community. It wouldn’t be the first time he had gone out in the middle of the night but he was heading in the opposite direction of the gates. 

Carol warred with herself as she watched him. The hurt she had experienced in the aftermath of his blatant lying, still stung. Even the sight of him from so far away had flared up that hurt inside of her. Still, even though she felt miserable, her concern for him won out. She slipped from the house, making sure to keep quiet to avoid waking Michonne and the kids. 

As she stepped out into the night, she saw no sign of Daryl. Carol suspected she knew where he had gone though. Following her hunch, she hurried along the empty streets, encountering no one on her way. Everyone was tucked away in their homes, either sleeping or occupying themselves in some other way. 

Sure enough, as she rounded the corner onto Eugene’s street, she watched Daryl slip inside the man’s house. She could see no sign of his bike and she vaguely wondered what he’d done with it. She pushed the question aside for now. She waited a little while before moving over to the house. She hesitated before entering cautiously. 

Like the last time Carol had snuck in, the lower floor of the home was empty. That would mean Daryl and Eugene were in the attic. She frowned as she remembered her difficulty hearing any of their conversation last time. 

With this in mind, she headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a glass from the dish drainer, hardly believing what she was stooping to doing. She hurried up the steps quietly and approached the wooden door. Feeling a little foolish once more, she settled the glass against the surface of the door. 

She remembers doing this as a child. Trying to listen to the heated discussions her parents would have in their bedroom. She remembers regretting her choice to eavesdrop when the discussions turned out to be about her. The words hadn’t been kind either.

Carol hadn’t been a bad child but even minor things set off her parents. Her father was always the worst. He’d even hit her a few times in anger. The irony hadn’t been lost on Carol when years later, she ended up marrying a man just like him. 

She hesitated before bringing her ear to the bottom of the glass. She didn’t hear anything at first. Just silence. Soon though, she heard Eugene’s voice. 

“You’re in luck, my friend. Looks like, as long as you’re in contact with the bike, it should go along with you.”

Carol’s brow furrowed as she pressed her ear closer. 

“Good, it’s downstairs. Parked it out back in case I could bring it,” she hears Daryl reply. 

“Always prepared. Well, you know what to do. The rest’ll be up to you to decide,” Eugene said. 

This conversation wasn’t making any sense to her. Daryl’s bike was somehow involved but she couldn’t work out the context. 

“There’s just one little problem…” 

She heard the nervousness in Eugene’s voice as he spoke. She waited. 

“What problem?” Daryl asked. 

“Well, it’s about the return co-ordinates. I was able to enter them in but there’s a glitch in the system. It’s like it’s rejecting those co-ordinates.”

Coordinates? Glitches? What the hell were they talking about? Carol’s confusion only seemed to grow as she listened. 

“What does that mean?” 

Good question, Carol thought to herself as Daryl spoke. 

“Simply put, I don’t know if you’ll be able to come back,” Eugene replied. 

Come back? Come back from where? 

“Not turnin’ back now,” Daryl said after a little while. 

Carol’s eyes widened as she heard the footsteps. She moved away from the door and hurried downstairs, dumping the glass on an end table. She heard the door upstairs open and the footsteps coming down the steps. She moved to the front door and slipped out quickly. She let out a heavy breath as it closed behind her. 

She didn’t linger in front of the house. Instead, she went around back. Daryl had said he’d left his bike out there. If she could hide herself, maybe she could gleam some more information when he finally came around back to get it. She took a breath to calm herself before opening the back gate. 

She was shocked when she realised Daryl was already there. He must have come out the back door instead of the front as she’d thought he would do. He was seated on his bike and there was a look of deep contemplation on his face. 

“What are you doing?” she blurted, making his head turn to her. 

She had meant to announce her presence more tactfully but it was just so strange. Why was he sitting on his bike in Eugene’s garden? It was as if he was readying to go somewhere but he wouldn’t start up his bike and ride it inside the community. He also wouldn’t just casually sit on his bike, least of all in Eugene’s garden. Daryl was watching her   
now, eyes wide with shock. 

“I...” he started but his words trailed off into silence. 

She waited, allowing him a chance to gather himself. The memory of his lies flashed before her once more. She hoped he’d let her in this time around. She didn’t know what he was hiding but whatever it was, he could trust her with it. 

Daryl seemed to war with himself for a while as if trying to find the right words. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak but whatever he was going to say never escaped his lips. His eyes widened as if something had shocked him. 

“Carol—“he said, her name sounding panicked on his lips. 

His tone of voice jolted her stomach. He seemed so afraid all of a sudden. She was about to move forward to comfort him somehow but she stopped short. 

Because Daryl had just vanished in a flash of light. 

Her eyes widened. 

“Daryl!” she cried out hysterically. 

But Daryl was nowhere to be found. Even his bike was gone. The space where he had occupied only moments ago, showed no signs that he’d ever been there. She hurried over to the spot but it was just an empty patch of grass. 

Carol’s mind warred against what she’d just seen. Daryl couldn’t have just disappeared like that. It just wasn’t possible. She had to be losing it. 

“What’s going on out here?” she heard as the back door opened. She turned her head to look. 

Eugene stood there with a stricken expression. 

Carol watched him and narrowed her eyes. He knew. Eugene knew something about what happened. The conversation she’d heard through the door had something to do with this. It had to. 

“What happened to Daryl?” she growled, not even trying to skirt the issue. 

Eugene gulped and his eyes darted nervously. 

“Well, you see—“he started but she could already hear the word vomit he was about to project on her. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Eugene!” Carol cut him off, moving into his space. 

Eugene flinched back a little. Finally, he sighed. 

“You should probably come upstairs,” he told her in a defeated tone. He turned and walked back inside. He held the door open for her silently. 

Carol eyed him warily but moved past him into the house. 

\---

Carol stared at Eugene from her place in an old armchair. Her mind was struggling to process what Eugene had just told her moments ago. 

“A time machine?” she repeated with disbelief clear in her voice. 

Eugene sighed from his place at a workbench. 

“Yes. A time machine,” he said before shaking his head. “Holy moly, this is like déjà vu,” he muttered under his breath. 

Carol found it hard to accept. Time travel was something that belonged in movies or romantic novels. It had no place in real life. She had even been a closet sci-fi fan before the   
world ended. Back To The Future had been her favourite when she was younger. 

“How can that be possible?” she asked him. 

Eugene shrugged a little. 

“How can it be possible that the dead are up and walking around, eating people? Not the best analogy I suppose, but sometimes things that don’t seem possible, suddenly are.” 

Carol considered that. It was true that the walkers were like something out of a horror film. When it had first started, it had been shocking to her. Now, she was so used to them that the strangeness had worn off. If she thought about it, Eugene’s words made sense. Would time travel be something she would grow used to if she spent so long around it? 

“Do you have any proof?” she asked, bringing herself out of her confusing thoughts. 

“Well, not as such,” he said but he was looking at her strangely. 

“What?” she prompted, knowing there was something he was neglecting saying. 

Eugene shifted in his seat. He looked down at his hands momentarily. 

“Maybe it’s best if I didn’t—“ 

Carol stood up and moved over to him. She stood tall over his seated frame. His head lifted to look up at her and she was pleased to see him quake a little from her proximity. 

“You’ll tell me or else, Eugene,” she threatened darkly. “Don’t worry about what the ‘Or else’ is. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” 

Eugene gulped. 

“Okay. Okay. Calm down,” he said, bringing his hands up as if to shield himself. He looked her up and down. “You know, you’re one scary lady sometimes.” 

Carol was starting to lose her patience. She pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Eugene…” 

“Alright,” he said, giving her another fearful look.”Look, something happened. To you, I mean.”

“What happened?” she asked as she crossed her arms. 

He bit his lip before speaking. 

“You died.” 

Carol blanched. 

What? 

If she had expected him to say anything, it wouldn’t have been that. 

“I died?” she repeated slowly, struggling to accept the words. “How?” 

Eugene shifted uncomfortably. 

“I don’t know too much about what happened. You and the group got trapped in a cave with Alpha’s horde. You ended up trying to cause a distraction for the others and didn’t make it out.” 

Carol absorbed that with difficulty. Still, even as wild as it seemed, she could definitely imagine herself doing such a thing. She wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice herself so that the   
people she cared about had a chance to live. 

“We all mourned you but it hit Daryl the hardest,” Eugene continued. “Hardly anyone ever saw him and when you did, you kinda wished you didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Carol asked, feeling her worry for Daryl skyrocket. 

“He just looked… Blank,” Eugene said with a crease in his brow. “Like everything about who he was, was just gone. I’ve seen a lot over the years but I’ve never seen someone look that broken.” 

Carol’s heart panged at the thought of Daryl like that. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine it. After Grady he had sunk into a deep depression that sounded similar to what Eugene described. She remembered how helpless she’d felt in the face out of it. Honestly, it was part of why she’d ended up leaving. She couldn’t stand to see him like that anymore. 

“It occurred to me when I was working on my time machine that maybe I could help. So, I went to him and told him about it,” Eugene said. “Of course, he didn’t believe me at first but once I convinced him, he jumped at the chance to go back and save you. And he did.” 

“He saved me,” Carol repeated in a whisper. Her eyes stung with barely held back tears. 

She realised now that she had been wrong. She had not lost him at all. He still cared about her just as much as he always had. If he didn’t, there’s no way he would have cared so much that she died. If he’d been done with her, he wouldn’t have gone back to save her, that was for sure. 

“Yes, he did,” Eugene confirmed with a small smile. 

Soon a thought occurred to her and she frowned. 

“But if he changed that, why did he need to go back again?” 

It only just struck her how strange that was. Daryl had gone back and saved her from her fate, so why had he disappeared before her in the garden? What did he plan to go back and change this time? 

“To be honest, I didn’t ask,” Eugene replied matter-of-factly. “Man seemed focussed on getting this done. I assume he wants to try to save all the people we lost.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked, questioning his reasoning. 

“Well, he’s going back to the start of all this mess,” Eugene said. 

Carol frowned again. 

The start? 

Her eyes widened. 

“You mean the start, start?” she asked in disbelief. The start of this new world. The start of all the horrors they faced. 

Eugene nodded. 

“Indeed,” he said. “He told me about a quarry you were camped out at. That’s where he wanted to go.” 

Carol swallowed at the thought of the quarry. That had been so long ago that she’d almost forgotten it. She’d been a completely different person back then. Weak, mouse-like,   
walking on eggshells around her husband and trying to keep her daughter out of his path. She swallowed at the thought of Sophia and quickly pushed the image of her face away. 

“He can get back, right?” she asked as the thought occurred to her. Clearly, he could if he had returned from saving her but she needed to know for sure. 

Eugene gave her an odd look. 

“Normally, yes.” 

Carol felt her stomach knot itself at the vague answer. 

“Go on,” she told him, wariness in her voice. 

He sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead. 

“Unfortunately, I had some trouble with the return coordinates.” 

Carol didn’t need much explanation for what that meant. No return coordinates meant no return. 

“You mean he’s stuck there!” the words escaped her shrill and loud in the small space. 

Eugene winced and leaned his body away from hers. 

“Potentially,” he admitted. 

Carol’s mind raged against the idea of Daryl being gone. That just wasn’t right. He couldn’t leave her. Not now. He was all she had left. 

“Send me back too,” she ordered, not even giving the thought much time to settle in her mind. 

“Look—“ Eugene started. 

Carol grabbed his shoulder in her hand and dragged him from his seat. It clattered to the floor. She backed him into the wall and pushed him up against it. Her hand itched for the knife on her hip but she left it there for now. Eugene watched her with wide eyes. She could practically feel the fear emanating from him. 

“Send. Me. Back,” she repeated with venom lacing her words. She didn’t even care that she was being unreasonable right now. She couldn’t care about that. Not when she felt like   
her world was turning on its axis. 

“Okay,” Eugene conceded finally, still looking terrified. “Just… You gotta give me a bit of time. I’ve got a second prototype but it hasn’t been tested yet.” 

Carol eyed him before backing off. She let go of him and watched as his frame relaxed. 

“Get that thing ready and send me back. You’ve got until tomorrow,” Carol told him, keeping her voice hard. 

She left the attic without another word. As she walked through the house, she felt a little guilty for how cruel she’d acted towards Eugene. She’d just been so consumed with terror   
at the idea of never seeing Daryl again. She would apologize to him later. All she knew was that she had to go back there too. She had to travel back in time and make sure he was safe. She didn’t care if she ended up trapped as well. 

She headed back home and readied for bed. It took her a while to fall asleep though. Her mind was still whirling over the idea of time travel and Daryl being gone. She started taking deliberately slow breaths, trying to calm herself and push the issue from her mind. It was a technique she’d used before the world ended. It was useful when she’d needed to sleep after a terrifying encounter with her husband. 

Eventually it worked and she dropped off into a restless sleep. 

\---

Carol woke the next morning, feeling like she had woken from a fever dream. But even though part of her still refused to accept the reality of time travel, she knew it had been real. Even her messed up mind couldn’t conjure something like that. 

She dressed in her brown trousers, a blue button up shirt and her black gloves before pulling her denim jacket on over the top. She clipped her belt in place with her knife on her hip and slipped a small dagger into her boot as she usually did. Then, she gathered her bow and arrows and left her room. 

She passed the dining room, only pausing to smile and exchange a few pleasantries with Michonne and the kids. They invited her to join them for breakfast but Carol declined. She didn’t think she’d be able to eat a thing right now. In fact, the thought of food churned her stomach. 

Carol left the house and made her way to Eugene’s. She didn’t bother knocking at the front door. She just let herself in. She heard noises in the kitchen and followed them. 

Eugene was leaning against the counter, chewing on a piece of toast as she walked in. He jumped as soon as he saw her. He immediately put the plate down on the counter and   
tried to hide it behind him. He swallowed obviously before clearing his throat. 

“Carol!” he said in a slightly high pitched tone. His eyes were wide as he looked at her. “I was working on setting things up. Just took a moment for a quick bite--“ he explained frantically. 

Carol instantly felt guilty again. She’d clearly rattled the man the night before and he expected her to lash out at him again. 

“Eugene calm down,” she told him, making her voice soft. She nodded to the plate he was failing to conceal. “Finish your breakfast.” 

He hesitated before picking up the plate again and grabbing the other piece of toast. He bit into her slowly, eyeing her warily. 

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved last night,” she continued. She honestly was sorry. She’d lost her head in the wake of her own panic. “I was just so afraid and that got the best of me.” 

Eugene relaxed a little once she’s finished speaking. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. 

“Understandable. Apology accepted.” 

Carol nodded, giving him a smile to reinforce her words. He returned it after swallowing his bite of food. 

“So, any luck?” she asked, wanting to get to the matter at hand. 

Eugene hummed as he took another bite. 

“I did a quick test last night to make sure the protype is up to the task. Everything seems to be working smoothly,” he said through a mouthful of food. He frowned though. “Problem is, even the first model, that I’ve tested multiple times, seemed to struggle with going back that far.” 

Carol listened quietly as he explained. The odds definitely sounded as if they were against her. But really, when weren’t they? 

“But there’s a chance it could work, right?” she asked. 

Eugene inclined his head as he chewed. 

“There’s a chance,” he agreed. “But it’s risky. You do this and I can’t guarantee you’ll even make it to your destination.” 

Carol mulled it over. It was big risk to take. If she didn’t try, she’d probably never see Daryl again. If she tried and it didn’t work, she’d probably never see Daryl again. But there was still that slim chance that it would work. She latched onto that. 

“I’m willing to take that risk,” she told Eugene after a moment. 

He finished his food, wiping his hands on his pants. He regarded her with something like admiration now. 

“You’re a braver soul than me, Carol,” he complimented with a smile. “Alright then. Let’s do this thing.” 

Carol followed him up to the attic and looked around for the first time. The place was definitely worthy of the term ‘Man Cave’. It was honestly a huge mess. She could feel the tension in her body in response. 

Untidy spaces set off her OCD like crazy and she had to bite down on the desire to start rearranging things. Strangely, though, she never seemed to have a problem with Daryl’s mess. He was always covered in at least one layer of dirt but she found it endearing instead of stressful. 

Eugene handed her an old backpack, cutting off her musings. She looked at it in her hand before turning her questioning eyes to him. 

“You’re giving me a bag?” 

Eugene frowned as he looked from her, to the bag and back. 

“No… This is it. The time machine,” he explained slowly. “Didn’t you see the one Daryl had?” 

Carol blinked and reassessed the backpack. Her eyes locked onto the metal panels and Russian symbols that covered it. She had honestly missed them on first glance. 

“It was dark and I was too shocked to notice a detail like that, I think,” she admitted as she continued to eye the thing. 

Eugene nodded in understanding. 

“Right, well, this is it. I know it doesn’t look like much, but it works, I promise.” 

Carol inclined her head. When in Rome, she thought to herself as she settled the straps over her shoulders. The weight of an empty bag always made her feel odd whenever she was out on a run. It was always a relief to find something to load into it. 

“Okay, the coordinates are already programmed in. I entered the return ones too as best I could but I don’t know if it took,” Eugene explained. “You just need to press that button when you’re ready.” 

Carol looked to the keypad on the strap. Her eyes zeroed in on the small orange button he pointed out. Her thumb came up to hover over it. As sure as she was about this, she was honestly a little afraid. 

“Good luck,” Eugene told her with a kind expression. “I truly hope you get what you want from this trip.” 

Carol gave him a tiny smile in return. He was a far cry from the snivelling, lying man he’d been when they’d first met. Acting on impulse, she leaned forward a pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling back. His cheeks warmed and he made a small ‘Ooh’ sound.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling grateful for his efforts to help her. 

Eugene nodded, still blushing a little. 

“Of course.” 

Carol hesitated another moment before pressing the button. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of what was going to happen. 

At first, she wondered if it hadn’t worked at all. For a long time she felt no change whatsoever. When she was about to open her eyes to check if she was still in Eugene’s attic, she felt a lurch in her stomach. 

Carol slowly opened her eyes and was met with total darkness. She almost thought she hadn’t opened her eyes at all, having to blink a few times to be sure. But her eyes were open. The dark was external. All around it seemed. 

Immediately, her mind started panicking, thinking something had gone wrong. She felt around with her hands, trying to find the keypad. She would have no way of knowing which buttons she would press but anything was better than this total blindness. She located the cool metal and felt the raised surface of the keys. 

Before she could press any of them, she started to see something through the dark. Carol squinted and tried to see what it was. It was as if her vision was fading in slowly. Like the reverse of when a film fades to black at the end. She blinked her eyes, trying to hurry the process. 

Colours started to make sense to her soon. Lots of green and brown. The shapes faded in slower but eventually, she realised she was in the woods. She blew out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Maybe this thing had worked after all. 

As soon as her eyes cleared fully, she started walking through the trees. It was pretty generic in terms of woods. No real sign of anything significant to give her an exact location. She did make out some tracks. Animals. Walkers. Unimportant. But then she spotted human tracks. A man, going by the size. 

Carol’s heart leapt. She knew she had no reason to think it could be Daryl but she couldn’t help the eagerness in which she followed those tracks. She could be heading right into the path of trouble for all she knew. With that in mind, she removed her bow from her back and knocked an arrow. Couldn’t hurt to be prepared just in case. 

She walked through the area quietly, keeping her bow ready. She paused as she passed a mound on the forest floor. She’d assumed it was a fallen tree that had been covered by moss and leaves on first glance. But as she had moved to pass it, she’d seen a flash of something shiny. Metallic. 

After a quick look around for any threats, she approached it. She got on her knees and pushed aside the debris. She gasped. Daryl’s bike. Her heart pounded as she realised that he was here. The time machine had brought her to the right place after all. 

Carol soon spotted a backpack similar to hers lying beside the bike. The decision to hide them was smart, she thought. If they were indeed back at the quarry, it would definitely be a good idea to keep them out of the group’s hands. 

She removed her own pack and tossed it to lie on top of Daryl’s. She grabbed the leaves and branches and arranged them to cover the bags and the bike. She kept piling more leaves on until she was satisfied. Daryl hadn’t exactly been the most thorough in his attempt to hide them and it was important this stuff stayed hidden. 

Carol got to her feet once more and went back to following the tracks. It wasn’t easy to track Daryl. He knew how to keep his steps light and not disturb the ground. Still, she could pick out the tiny tell tale signs to let her know she was going in the right direction. As she went to take another step, she heard a noise from behind her. Her fingers tightened on her weapon, raising it up to eye level as she spun in place.

Behind her was a man. She didn’t recognise him at all. He was tall. Probably about six foot. His hair was long and dark and his face held a sinister edge. The most worrying part was the gun he had pointed in her direction. 

Frustration built inside her. She was good with her bow. Diane and Daryl had taught her well. But against a gun, she had no chance.

“Hey, Darlin’,” the man said, trying and failing to sound friendly. He grinned, revealing pointed canines. 

Carol kept her bow up, not willing to back down yet. She had no idea what this man’s intentions were but she could already tell they weren’t anything good. 

“How about you put that down,” he told her. “There ain’t no need for this to turn ugly.” 

Carol narrowed her eyes at him, adjusting her grip on her bow. Her arm stayed tight where it was pulling back the arrow. 

“How do I know you won’t kill me as soon as I lower this?” she asked. 

The man shrugged, his grin not dropping an inch. 

“You don’t. But I don’t wanna kill you, honey. You and me could be real good friends.” 

Carol snorted, unable to help herself. 

“I highly doubt that.” 

Something twitched in the man’s face at her response. His finger tightened on the trigger. 

“Listen bitch,” he spat, dropping the friendly pretence. “You’re gonna do what I say. You play nice and this’ll go a whole lot easier for you.”

Carol had a sickening feeling of what this man wanted with her now. But the thought of being subjected to this man’s lustful appetite didn’t disturb her as much as it probably should. Rape wasn’t something she was a stranger to after all. She’d dealt with it all through her marriage and had developed coping strategies. 

What did disturb her was the thought that, if they were at the quarry, that meant this man could have ended up in the camp. He could have cornered any of the younger, less damaged women and girls of the group and tormented them. 

Carol knew that, if she had to, she could endure this and make it through with her sanity intact. The other women would likely not be prepared for that. It would potentially destroy them. She realised too that, if this man killed her right here, there was no stopping him from eventually finding the camp and doing exactly what she feared anyway. 

“Darlin’….” he drawled in a warning tone. 

Carol reluctantly lowered her bow. She dropped it to the ground along with her quiver of arrows. She raised her hands in front of her. 

“Okay! Okay, I’ll do what you say. Just please don’t hurt me,” she said, starting to employ her acting skills. If he thought she was weak, he would let his guard down. She had hindered it a little with her display with the bow but she knew if she kept at it, he’d believe it quick enough. 

The man’s grinned renewed but he made a tutting noise. 

“Uh-uh, Honey, the knife too,” he ordered, gesturing the gun to her hip where her knife sat. 

Carol sighed but reached down and pulled it free from its sheath. She tossed it to the ground alongside her bow. She showed him her hands again. 

“That’s all I have, I promise,” she told him, making her voice wobble. She felt the comforting sensation of the small dagger in her boot. 

The man gave her a once over. 

“You won’t mind if I check that for myself, would you?” he asked, not waiting for a reply before moving over to her. 

He kept the gun on her as his free hand patted over her body. His hand deliberately lingered on her behind and her breasts and she fought the urge to slap him away. When he seemed satisfied that she was unarmed, he grabbed onto her forearm tightly. She made herself let out a little whimper. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Sugar. I’m gonna be real good to you, you’ll see,” he cooed in her ear, voice sickeningly sweet. 

Bile raised in her throat as her licked her ear. Every part of her wanted to reach for that knife in her boot and embed it in him. Preferably in the crotch area. But she knew she had to bide her time. The gun was still cold against her temple where it pressed. 

“You gonna be good for me?” he asked into her ear, making her shiver with disgust. 

“I won’t be any trouble,” she said in a scared voice. 

He laughed and his hand released her shoulder to wrap around her waist. He squeezed her back against him and she groaned inwardly as she felt the telltale hardness against her hip. 

“Good girl,” he said reverently, bucking his hips into her. “Let’s go.” 

He grabbed onto her arm again and shoved her forwards, making her walk. She did so, keeping her eyes ahead. She didn’t understand how this had happened. The quarry camp hadn’t encountered any men or any people at all really during the time they spent there. So who was this man and why was he so close to camp? 

She guessed it was possible that he’d been lurking out here the first time around and they just hadn’t known. It was possible that he could have encountered walkers before he ever had a change to attack their camp. She just happened to be unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

The story of her life really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one. Sorry for the sort of cliff hanger. Don't worry. Things will work out, I promise. Next chapter we'll find out what's happening with Daryl in the quarry camp.


	9. Captive and Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we find out what's going on with Carol and the mysterious man who's taken her hostage. Come into the parlor, said the spider to the fly....
> 
> We also see Daryl's reaction to the main camp and seeing the group again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter isn't too eventful but I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Next chapter, Daryl will finally speak to past Carol, so there's that to look forward to.

Carol put up no resistance as her hands were bound behind her back. Her captor led her far from the place he had picked her up, forcing her to walk at gunpoint. He kept a firm hand on her arm the whole time, not letting her have an inch of space between them. He walked her to a little campsite with a few tents scattered around. 

It had to be a miles away from the quarry camp but it still unnerved her that it had been so close and they hadn’t even known. What had happened to this man and his companions the first time around? There’s no way they could have survived, because if they had, they surely would have found the quarry camp eventually. 

Carol had not even attempted to make a move to escape. It wasn’t the right time. She needed to play along until the opportunity presented itself. As soon as she saw it, she wouldn’t hesitate to retrieve that knife in her boot. 

The man made her sit down on a log around a campfire and she secretly enjoyed being off her feet finally. She watched the man step away from her and observe her with a satisfied grin. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” he asked her mockingly. 

Carol didn’t even bother to answer him. She just watched and waited for whatever he planned to do next. Thankfully, he seemed in no hurry to force himself on her. She knew not to take comfort in that. She was sure that it was still his main goal. He took a seat on the log across from her and levelled the gun on her again. He looked her up and down again. 

“So, what’s your name honey?” 

“Nancy,” she lied, not caring to tell this man her real name. She made sure to make her voice fearful. “What’s yours?” she added as an afterthought. 

The man looked taken aback by her request for his name. He eyed her suspiciously for a while before speaking.

“John,” he said, still looking a little baffled. 

Carol gave him a demure smile. It sometimes scared her how good she was at faking this shit. She knew it had unnerved Daryl and Rick when she’d first started it in Alexandria. 

“It’s nice to meet you, John,” she said, making her words seem genuine. 

He frowned at her before scoffing. 

“Cut that shit out. I know what you’re doing,” John said, gesturing the gun at her. “You’re trying to get me to feel guilty so I’ll let you go. It ain’t gonna work on me, honey.” 

Carol made her eyes widen and she spluttered a little. She was laying it on a bit thick, she knew, but he seemed to be buying it. 

“What? No, I was just trying to be nice,” she said in weak voice. “You said it would be easier for me if I played along, so I thought I’d try to do what you said. Be good for you.” 

John scrutinized her, his eyes running over her face intently. She kept the meek, innocent look in place, not allowing it to falter for a second. Eventually, he smiled wide. It wasn’t a   
nice smile at all and she had to fight not to shiver. 

“Well, alright then,” he said jovially. “You keep this up and I might even be gentle with you the first time.” 

Carol fought the bile rising in her throat in response and smiled back at him as if he’d told her the sweetest thing in the world. Her eyes moved to the other tents in the area. She hadn’t seen any sign of other people since they had arrived and she found that odd. Had his companions already met their fate? 

“Are you with a group?” she asked. At his suspicious look, she hurried to continue. “It’s just, there’s a few tents here and I haven’t seen anyone else.” 

John relaxed before shrugging at her. 

“They went off to scout a town. I stayed back to keep an eye on the camp.” 

Carol kept her expression casually interested while inside, her mind was whirring. Calculating the risk. 

“Have they been gone long?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual. 

“They left a few hours ago,” John told her. “Didn’t want to head out too late.” 

Carol nodded. Inside she was cheering. The group hadn’t been gone long which meant they would probably wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Perhaps they had even already   
met their fate and they wouldn’t returning at all. She didn’t intend on sticking around long enough to find out. 

“They must think you’re really strong and capable if they left you by yourself,” Carol simpered, trying to stroke the bastard’s ego. It worked because he straightened a little and   
held his head higher. 

“I ain’t afraid of nothing,” he crowed proudly. “Don’t need no one watching my back.”

Carol nodded with a smile, even though she was rolling her eyes on the inside. Typical macho bullshit. 

“I can see that. I think I was lucky to bump into you,” she told him. 

He furrowed his brow and leaned back an inch. 

“How do you figure that?” 

“Because I was alone and so afraid,” she said, playing up the fear in her voice. “I’d hoped I’d find a group or something but I hadn’t found anyone. But then today, I found you.” 

Carol had learned a long time ago that if you stroked a man’s ego enough, he’d be eating out of your palm. It had helped her avoid many beatings before the world ended, and   
after, it had saved her life. John looked even more pleased by her words but he didn’t make a move to speak. She decided to keep going. 

“I know it wasn’t the most ideal of ways to meet, but I can see now that it was just a misunderstanding. You’re a good guy,” she told him in that same simpering voice that reminded her of a mooning teenager. 

“Aw, honey, you’ll make me blush” he said with a grin. “Don’t you worry. You keep me happy and I’ll keep those dead bastards away from you,” he vowed more seriously. 

“Deal,” she agreed with a sweet smile. 

Things were going just fine. It wouldn’t be long until he’d be right where she wanted him. 

\---

Daryl walked into the main camp, nostalgia washing over him like a wave. It was surreal to see this place again. He felt like he had stepped inside his own memory. Things registered to him like snapshots in his mind; the tents spaced out here and there, the campfire, the people, the RV. 

Dale’s RV stood out the most to Daryl, being the largest vehicle in camp. The man himself was in his customary spot on the roof with his binoculars around his neck and rifle over his shoulder. Daryl’s stomach knotted at the sight of him. The last time Daryl had seen Dale, he’d been gasping in pain and staring up with pleading eyes. He was the first living person Daryl had ever killed. He knew it was mercy. Dale was going to die either way. Still, to see the man alive and well, after being the one to pull the trigger, was a little overwhelming. 

Another person Daryl was determined to save. He needed to make sure Carl didn’t go off taunting walkers and make sure Dale didn’t go walking off alone. Or even just make sure Dale was armed with something other than that rifle. The man never had any knives on him. If he had, he might have been able to take out that walker himself. 

Daryl knew that he wouldn’t be able to save everyone. For one thing, he could only change the things he knew about or was present for. For another, if he did change things, he didn’t know how that would, in turn, change other things. They didn’t know near enough about time travel to know that. 

As he walked through camp, his list of people to save continued to grow. Dale, Amy, Jackie, Jim, Lori, Carl. He nearly stumbled when he caught sight of Sophia. She was sitting at a little card table with Carl, laughing at something the boy had said. While the sight of Carl did make his eyes water, it was Carol’s little girl that really choked him up. 

Daryl stared at her as if it was the first time. He had never realised how much she looked like Carol. Her eyes were dark, a trait she had gotten from her no good father. Still, they shone with her mother’s warmth. Her soft features held nothing of Ed in them. He had never spoken a word to the girl and yet she had carved a place for herself inside him. He had never lost the guilt over his failure in saving her and that guilt had made him strive to do better. To try to save everyone else. 

As he watched her, her head happened to turn in his direction. Her eyes widened and her body shrank back a little. She looked terrified of him and he knew it was his own fault. He’d been staring at her like some creeper. It didn’t help that he looked as rough as he did either. It couldn’t exactly be helped, but he usually made an effort to put people at ease. If he didn’t think it would make things worse, he would have gone over and apologized to her. Instead, he moved away, not wanting to add any more to her fear. 

As he crossed the camp, he noticed more and more eyes on him. The campers had finally realised there was a stranger in their midst. He heard the whispers start up though he could not make out what they were saying. 

Daryl tried his best to look unthreatening but knew he likely wouldn’t succeed. His face always seemed to have a permanent scowl and it wasn’t something he knew how to change. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he saw Lori scurrying over to Shane.

It wasn’t kind to think ill of the dead, but Lori Grimes was someone he had certainly not missed. That was not to say he didn’t feel awful for how she died and how hard Carl had taken it. Deep down, he was glad to see the brunette alive and well and hoped she’d live to see her son and daughter grow. However, he couldn’t deny that she had been a pain in the ass to deal with. 

“Excuse me, son?” Daryl heard from above just as he tried to open the door to the RV. 

Daryl looked up to see Dale watching him with wide, eyes. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Dale started. “But who exactly are you?” 

Daryl opened his mouth, about to give the man his name, but he paused. He couldn’t introduce himself as Daryl. He’d already lied his ass off to Shane. Daryl huffed. 

“Norman. My name’s Norman,” he told Dale. The name still felt foreign on his tongue. He’d always called his grandpa, ‘Pa’ or ‘Pop’. Never really used his proper name. 

“Norman. Okay,” Dale said with a nod, still looking wary. “Well, Norman, why are you trying to get into my RV?” 

“Shane put my weapons in there,” Daryl told him simply. He did his best to look the old man in the eyes and not picture him with his guts hanging out. 

“Shane let you into the camp?” Dale asked, his eyes losing some of their panic.

“In a manner of speaking,” Daryl replied, not allowing himself the snort he wanted to let out. He still felt the bite of the handcuffs on his wrists. 

Dale shifted and his grip on the rifle relaxed a little. He tilted his head as he looked down at Daryl. 

“Forgive me for saying, but do you happen to know Merle and Daryl Dixon? You have a striking resemblance.” 

Daryl wanted to laugh. It was just so ridiculous, the whole situation. He stamped down on the urge to laugh. That wouldn’t help his case. 

“They’re my brothers,” he told Dale, keeping it short and sweet. He might not be great at lying but he knew the more details you added, the more you gave yourself away. 

“Ah,” Dale replied with a nod. “Of course.” 

Dale waved his hand in the direction of the RV. 

“Go ahead and grab your stuff, son,” Dale urged him before smiling. “I’m Dale, by the way.” 

Daryl nodded at him, unable to speak at that moment. Dale had been such a kind and wise man. His loss had hit Daryl harder than he’d ever let anyone know. The man had been the first, other than Carol, who had looked at him as something more than worthless trash. 

He opened the door of the RV and slipped inside. He found his weapons sitting on one of the tables and sighed in relief. It wasn’t that he thought Shane had lied. He just instantly felt calmed by the sight of the pieces that had become an extension of him. 

Daryl grabbed his knives, replacing them in their sheaths on his belt before swinging his bow over his back. His eyes drifted to the little bedroom at the back of the RV. 

He remembers watching Carol sobbing all night on that bed after Sophia had gone missing. Her cries had cut him to the bone and he’d tried so hard to block them out. He shook his head to push the memory away. It wouldn’t happen this time, he told himself. He was going to make sure that girl never went missing in the first place. Carol would never have a reason to cry if he had it his way. 

Daryl exited the RV and offered Dale a wave of thanks. He moved back the way he had come, needing to get out of the main camp. There were too many memories here. Too many ghosts. He had known, going into this, that he’d be seeing these people again. Some that he had cared about and some he’d just known in passing. But to be actually faced with it was a whole other story. 

As if to add more fuel to the fire, he spotted Morales’s family. He felt bile rising as he remembered how heartlessly he had killed the man. Sure, he had been threatening Rick but that hadn’t been why Daryl had done it. He had killed him because he was a Saviour and all of them were good as dead in Daryl’s opinion back then. He had been hell bent on revenge and didn’t care who got in the way. 

Daryl had known who the man was as soon as he’d heard Morales’s voice but Daryl hadn’t cared. He’d been so full of rage that it didn’t matter that he knew Morales or that the man might have turned out to be not so bad, even as a Saviour. In that moment, he’d just wanted him dead. 

Daryl forced his eyes away from the family and walked on. He had to convince the man and his people to stay with the group. He didn’t know what happened to them out there on the road, but maybe they’d have a chance if they stuck around. If he could prevent the slaughter in the camp when the herd comes through, maybe that could help, he thinks. He remembers that being the catalyst for the man and his family to leave. 

Daryl walked to the edge of the camp. Shane was standing there with Lori by his side. She was eyeing Daryl distrustfully. Daryl ignored her and gave Shane a nod. He wanted to keep things as friendly as possible with the man. At this moment, he was in charge of this camp. So, Daryl needed to keep Shane trusting him or he could find himself being kicked out. 

After a moment, Shane returned his nod, even giving him a muted smile. With that, Daryl continued on his way to the outer camp. However as he walked, he caught a bit of the conversation behind him. He slowed his pace to listen closer. 

“What are you doing? Letting a man like that into camp?” Lori said in a frantic voice that Daryl remembered well. That tone of voice used to set his teeth on edge. She always used it when she would bitch at Rick for some inane thing. 

“He’s just looking for his brothers, Lori. That’s all,” Shane replied, sounding sure of that. 

“His brothers,” Lori scoffed. “I still think that was a bad call to let them join us too.” 

“Merle’s bad news, I’ll give you that,” Shane said. “But the younger one, Daryl, he’s been pretty useful. Brings us a lot of meat from his hunts.” 

Daryl was surprised to hear Shane defend him. The man had made it no secret that he thought Daryl was beneath him. Especially on the farm. However, Daryl supposed a lot of   
that had been because Rick started turning to him as second instead of Shane. 

“He’s just as volatile as Merle!” Lori protested. “A bit of meat isn’t worth risking having these hoodlums around!” 

Daryl snorted at the description. He couldn’t say she was wrong though. Merle and him were no saints, even before the world ended. He couldn’t exactly blame her for being a little scared. They had been planning to rob this place after all. He shook his head at the memory of Merle’s dumbass plan. The worst part was that Daryl knew he would have 

gone along with it too. Even though he’d known it had been wrong, he would have blindly followed Merle and taken the supplies from this group. 

“I’m keeping an eye on them,” he heard Shane say, breaking his thoughts. “They step out of line, I’ll deal with it.”

Daryl didn’t hear anything after that, so he kept walking. He didn’t want to accidentally hear those two going at it. It had happened more than once when he was returning from a hunt. The only thing he could be thankful for from the two’s antics, was the creation of Judith. The rest of him had always felt kind of disgusted with Lori and Shane. 

He knew Lori had honestly believed Rick was dead when she had started things with Shane. But you don’t just screw your dead husband’s best friend. Similarly, you don’t just screw your dead best friend’s wife. That shit was fucked up. 

Daryl shook his head and kept moving to the outer camp. With both Merle and his past self gone, he figured he’d just stay in his old tent for now. He knew Merle would definitely not be returning for one thing. He didn’t know how he would handle the other Daryl yet. He couldn’t exactly just knock him out this time. 

He entered the ratty tent and felt that rush of nostalgia again. Merle’s stuff was spread out on one side, while his was on the other. It wasn’t a lot of stuff altogether really. Mostly hunting tools and clothes. Daryl shook his head as he spotted a used syringe near Merle’s bedroll. He would toss that shit out when he got a chance. He was too tired to bother right now. 

There was also Merle’s pilfered stash of canned goods in the corner. Daryl shook his head again. He hadn’t approved of Merle’s greediness the first time around but he’d stayed silent. This time, he’d make sure the food returned to the main camp. 

He laid down on his old bedroll and let out a tired breath. He was still exhausted from the time travel. His head was pounding and he knew he needed to close his eyes for a while. He would go check on the backpack and his supplies later. He kept a hand on one of his knives as he made himself comfortable and let his lids close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did you feel about this one? 
> 
> Can we appreciate for a second how terrifying Carol is? I'm writing this story and even I feel a little bad for this creep lol. 
> 
> Please consider leaving me a comment :)


	10. New/Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl enjoys a nice conversation with past Carol. That's it. That's the whole chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this one took so long to go up. I had a lot of trouble with this one for some reason. Kept going over it a million times. I'm still not satisfied with it but I figured I'd upload it anyway. I didn't want to make you wait any longer. 
> 
> I know you all are probably worrying and wondering what's going on with future Carol but that will come next chapter. Don't worry. She and future Daryl will be reunited very soon. I'm not going to keep them separated for like ten chapters. 
> 
> Hope you like this slightly longer chapter. It's kind of a little bottle chapter. Just a nice conversation with some bonding. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> Edit: I am big dumb. I forgot to put the other note here. I meant to let you all know the process of the referring to the past and future versions of Caryl from here on. 
> 
> Here it is: 
> 
> From here on, I will be referring to Past Daryl and Carol with their names in bold. 
> 
> In the original version, I had the future versions in bold but I realised I should do it the other way around because we will see the future versions more than the past ones. 
> 
> So, basically, whenever you see Carol written as Carol, it means I’m talking about the past version. Similarly, if you see Daryl written as Daryl, it will be referring to the past version. 
> 
> This does not include dialogue but I will have the dialogue tags marked so it’s clear who is speaking. 
> 
> Any mention of Carol or Daryl (outside of dialogue) that isn’t marked in bold will refer to the future/older versions of them or just the characters in general. 
> 
> This is just to help clear up confusion because there’s four people with the same names. 
> 
> I will post this note in the next chapter too just in case people missed it.

Daryl was woken sometime later by the sound of footsteps outside the tent. He pulled one of his knives free from his belt as he got to his feet. It was probably nothing. Just another camper heading to their tent for the night. He wasn’t going to take that chance though. His survival instincts were far too ingrained in him. He pushed the material of the tent aside. It was dark out, making him realise he had slept longer than he had meant to. Time travel sure knocked the energy out of you. He lifted his knife as he stepped from the tent. The woman who was standing just outside squeaked at his sudden appearance. She brought a hand to her chest and eyed his knife fearfully. 

“Sorry,” Daryl told her as he replaced his knife in its sheath. 

Carol took a breath before shaking her head. She lowered her hand to her side once more, though her gaze did dart towards the knives on his belt a few times. 

“It’s okay,” she said demurely. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just thought you might be hungry.”

Daryl took in the way that she didn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke. Even though she had sought him out, she was afraid of him. Not that he blamed her. She had every reason to be afraid of men. Especially ones that looked the way he did. It kind of shocked him to see her like this though. He was so used to her confidence and ferocity that it was easy for him to forget how she had once been. His eyes locked on the bowl she held in her hands. It looked to be some sort of stew. 

“Thanks,” he told her, softening his voice. He smiled at her, hoping it would set her at ease, and took the bowl from her gently. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied, giving him a shy smile in return. 

He jumped a moment later when she made a noise, almost like a giggle. He hadn’t expected it but it made his heart flutter ridiculously. He hadn’t heard her laugh in too long. He had become far too familiar with her tears instead lately. He watched her shake her head. 

“Sorry. It’s just, I don’t even know your name,” she explained sheepishly. “Mine’s Carol,” she added, seemingly as an afterthought. 

Daryl thought about it. He knew he should tell her the same bullshit he had told Shane and Dale, but for some reason, he didn’t want to lie to her. He knew it was risky, but he had a feeling she would understand. She was the same Carol after all and if he explained himself well enough, she would probably believe him. That’s what he hoped at least.

“You really want to know?” he asked. 

Carol gave him an odd look before nodding warily. Daryl nodded back at her and chewed his lip. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to tell her, he realised. There was a good chance she would just think he was a nutcase. If she did, he wouldn’t hold it against her. He would think the same thing in her position.  
“Daryl,” he told her finally. Probably should have said more than that, he realised as he watched her brow pucker. 

“Daryl?” she repeated. 

He nodded, waiting to see if she caught on. ‘Daryl’ wasn’t exactly an uncommon name, but it was unique enough that she would surely find it odd for another man to show up with the same name as another in the camp. It was understandable too that she wouldn’t make the connection straight away. Her eyes bored into him and she even leaned a little closer. Soon, her eyes widened. 

“Daryl, as in Daryl Dixon?” she breathed, the pitch of her voice rising. 

Daryl hadn’t expected her to recognise him so quickly. She couldn’t be all that familiar with his face at this point. They hadn’t exactly had much chance to interact. He had made sure of that. But somehow, apparently, she had seen it. She was more observant than he had given her credit for. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed simply. 

“But how? How can that be possible?” 

“I’m from the future,” Daryl told her, internally wincing at how that must sound. “Ten years in the future.” 

Carol blanched. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but no words escaped her. Daryl shifted a little in the silence. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but there was an edge to it that made him uncomfortable. He chewed his lip again, still not sure if she was going to run away screaming. 

“You believe me?” he asked hesitantly. 

Carol continued to watch him quietly for a while. She seemed to take in everything about him. Looking him up and down now and then. He didn’t know what she was seeing. He knew he didn’t exactly paint a comforting picture and not just because of his mean-looking face. His clothes were ratty, especially his pants. Carol had been on his case about them for a long time, but he’d stubbornly refused to part with them. 

“I believe you,” she finally said, thoroughly shocking him. 

He had thought that he would need to work a little harder to prove it to her, that is if she hadn’t just run away. But here she was, telling him that she believed his insane words. And the weirdest part was, he could tell that she wasn’t just saying it. 

“You do?” he asked. It seemed too good to be true. “Just like that?” 

Carol hummed and fiddled with her hands, glancing down at them before returning her gaze to his. 

“I mean, it’s insane,” she said, her brows raising a little. “Part of me is saying that it can’t possibly be true. For some reason, I believe you though.” 

Daryl felt stumped. He didn’t understand how she was able to accept it that quickly. If he had told anyone else, there was no way that they would have. That was why he had concocted the façade of his identity in the first place. Somehow, Carol did and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“You don’t even know me,” he replied with a bit of a scoff. “How can you just believe somethin’ as crazy as that?” 

Carol tilted her head as she watched him. She looked thoughtful and a little confused herself. 

“I don’t know,” she said with a blush. “There’s just something about you. It sounds crazy, I know, but I feel like I can trust you,” she confessed. 

“You can,” he assured her quickly. “And thanks,” he added shyly. “For believing me.” 

It felt like a weight had lifted that he hadn’t even known was there. He had only told the lie to two people, but it still had pushed him so far out of his comfort zone. He didn’t like lying, even when it was required for safety. To be able to confess, to Carol especially, helped to combat the feeling of wrongness he felt inside. Carol softened at his words and nodded with a little smile. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

She shifted her stance and pulled the thin cardigan around her tighter. It was a rare cold night and her clothes were incredibly impractical. Under the cardigan, she only had on a thin t-shirt and some pants that didn’t even reach her ankles. To top it off, she had on some shoes that were impractical as fuck. 

Carol had told him once how much she had hated wearing this kind of stuff. Told him how Ed would dictate to her everything she was allowed to wear. She was never permitted to wear anything remotely revealing or anything that fit snug to her body. She had confessed that he even made her buy clothes that were a size or two too big. She had then confessed that it had been a hard habit to shake even after he was gone. Still, after they left the farm, she started feeling comfortable to show off more of her arms and started wearing shirts and pants that fit her body like a glove. 

As proud as he was of her for that, it hadn’t helped his growing attraction to her. He would find his eyes lingering on her far longer than they should and in less than innocent places. Thankfully, she had never seemed to notice or if she did, she at least hadn’t been pissed at him for it. He hadn’t gone out of his way to try to check her out, he just couldn’t seem to help it. Whenever he’d caught himself doing it, he would berate himself thoroughly, feeling awful for his less than respectful thoughts. 

“So, ten years?” Carol spoke, breaking his musings. 

He blinked, blushing a little at the turn his mind had taken. He nodded in response to her question and watched her shake her head. He could see the disbelief in her eyes. 

“I honestly didn’t think any of us would even make it that far,” she confessed quietly. 

Daryl hummed, understanding that. He had never thought he would live that long once this whole shit started. And over the years he’d had so many brushes with death that he’d thought he had been right. Somehow, he had survived all of them and was still here. 

“Am I—I mean, can you tell me if…” she stuttered unsurely, her eyes half pleading with him.  
He could read between her broken sentences. She wanted to know if she made it. 

“You’re alive. You made it,” he confirmed hastily, wanting to put her fears at ease. 

He hoped to God she didn’t ask about Sophia because he didn’t know how to answer that question. Wouldn’t be able to lie to her if she did ask, but he wanted to keep that truth to himself for as long as possible. If she knew what happened, she would just sit around waiting for it. Worry over it obsessively. It was better if she didn’t know. At least not until after he had managed to prevent it. 

Carol’s eyes widened in response to his reply. It was as if she had been expecting him to tell her that she had kicked the bucket long ago. She seemed entirely taken aback to learn that she had survived. Perhaps she’d be distracted enough with that that she wouldn’t think to ask about her daughter’s fate. He hoped so. 

“I made it?” she asked, emphasizing the ‘I’. “How?” her voice was small as she spoke. 

Daryl considered what he should say. He still didn’t understand this time travel shit. He didn’t know how safe it was to tell people about stuff that happened in their future. It wasn’t like he’d had to ever think about this before. He figured if he kept it vague enough, it would be fine though. 

“You’re strong. Strongest person I ever met,” he told her honestly. 

She had been through so much shit, more shit than any one person should have had to go through. And yeah, it had broken her at times, but she always came back, stronger and more determined than ever. He was honestly in awe of her for the strength she carried inside. Carol gave him another look of disbelief as she hugged her middle. She looked so vulnerable right now like she was trying to make herself smaller. 

“I’m… I’m not strong,” she said with a heavy swallow. “I can’t even protect myself.”  
Daryl sighed inwardly at the picture of insecurity she presented. She had no idea that one day she was a bonafide badass. People spoke about her like some mythical warrior in the communities. He didn’t think Carol in the future even knew about that. 

“Not now, but in the future, you learn to fight,” he told her, hardly giving a shit about the time travel stuff anymore. She needed to hear this. “You become one of the best fighters in the group.” 

Carol shook her head as if trying to negate his statement. 

“And you are strong,” he added, ignoring her silent protest. “You’ve always been strong.” 

She might not think so, but it wasn’t a small thing having to put up with a husband like that and protect a kid at the same time. She might be a badass with fighting and weapons in the future, but right now, she was just as much so. She was like a fierce mama bear that was trying to shield its cub from predators. He did not doubt that if Ed ever tried to hurt Sophia, the Carol that he had come to know would emerge from within her like a phoenix rising from the ashes to exact justice. 

“Is that… Is that true?” she asked quietly. 

Daryl nodded right away. 

“Every word,” he confirmed, meeting her eyes. 

Carol seemed to consider it for a moment. He knew it must be a lot to take in. She had spent so long feeling helpless and weak and everything he had just told her went so far against that. After a moment, she bit her lip. 

“I...” Carol started but paused with a frown. 

“What?” he coaxed, keeping his voice soft. He could tell that doing so helped to keep the fear from her eyes. 

“Why did you step in earlier?” she asked hesitantly. “When Ed… When my husband was hurting me. Why did you stop him?” 

Daryl sighed. He regretted all over again the decision not to step in the first time around. She seemed genuinely baffled that someone would step up and protect her. Everyone in this camp had known what was going on. They had just turned a blind eye to it and he had been no better. 

“ ‘Cause you don’t deserve that shit,” he replied vehemently. “ ‘Cause someone should have done something long before now. I should have done something,” he said, hearing the guilt in his own voice. 

Carol furrowed her brow as if his words didn’t make sense.  
“You did do something.” 

Daryl shook his head.

“Not the first time I didn’t,” he admitted shamefully. “I thought-- My brother, he--” all of the  
words he tried to speak sounded like empty excuses. He huffed in frustration. 

It was easy to blame it on Merle. ‘Merle said not to step in, so I didn’t’. But it wasn’t Merle. He had his own mind. He could have done something despite his brother’s warnings. It had just been easier to turn away. Carol reached her hand out cautiously and placed it on his arm. He looked to her in surprise, never having expected that she would touch him. Not when she was this skittish. 

“It’s okay, Daryl,” his name came out a little unsurely from her. “I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your place to protect me.” 

Daryl bit his lip as he considered her words. It was true. He’d had no reason back then and no connection to her to justify it. That didn’t mean it was right. 

“Might not have been my place, but it was the right thing to do.” 

It had been bad enough that they were being terrorized by the dead. No one should have to be afraid of something else on top of it. The group should have been as ashamed of themselves as Daryl was for just turning a blind eye. It had been the attitude of the old world. The one that didn’t exist anymore. But they had been trying so hard to hold onto that world and Carol and her daughter had suffered for it. Carol swallowed heavily and gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. 

“Why do you care so much what happens to me?” 

“ ‘Cause you’re my best friend,” the words come automatically from his mouth. 

Daryl felt a little ridiculous having said it in the aftermath. Carol was right. He did sound like he was ten when he worded it like that. He blushed. 

“I know it sounds dumb but it’s true. You’re the best friend I ever had.” 

Daryl had never had many friends in his life. After his ma died, the kids had started looking at him funny and tended to stay away from him. Then, as he grew into a teenager, he started wanting to be left alone. That had been when the abuse from his father had reached its peak in intensity. He started to hate people as a whole and would only really be able to tolerate his brother’s presence. 

So, it wasn’t until after the world ended that he learned what it meant to have friends again. He had been so out of practice that he had fought against it at first. Hadn’t understood that that was what it was. But eventually, he had been able to allow room within him for people. And Carol had been the first and the most constant. Carol looked incredulous in the moments after he had spoken. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she found his words to be juvenile or stupid. She just seemed confused. 

“Me?” she said sceptically. “Your best friend?” 

“Yeah,” was all he could think to say. 

He had never allowed himself to put the name to their relationship until after Henry had told him that was how Carol thought of him. It was like he had been permitted to do so. So, that day in the forest, the words had slipped easily from his mouth without a thought. And of course, she had teased the shit out of him for it. He should have expected as much. 

“But, why?” she asked in a small voice, bringing him back to the present. 

Daryl frowned, not understanding her question. 

“Why what?” 

She sighed a little. 

“Why am I your best friend?” she asked, shaking her head. “I just… I can’t see why anyone would want that from me.”

Daryl’s heart hurt at her words. She thought so low of herself. Didn’t think she had any qualities worthy of earning a friend like that. Daryl understood that feeling better than most. He had lived most of his life feeling that way. 

“I told you. You’re the strongest person I ever met,” he started, trying to think of reasons to give her. “You were there for me when no one else was. You… You never gave up on me, even when I probably deserved it. You helped me to be something else. Something I never thought I could be.” 

He had gone through most of his adult life believing that he was content to just follow Merle around forever. Yeah, his brother had been a pain in the ass and a dick, but he had been familiar and, all things considered, he had looked out for Daryl. He had never entertained any ideas of any other kind of life for himself. Never thought he was good enough for it anyway. 

Carol had helped him to see that he could be more. That he could rise above the awful family life he had been born into and make a name for himself. People trusted him now, looked up to him even. They saw him as a protector and someone that could be relied upon. None of that would have come to pass without Carol and her unwavering determination to not let him pull away. Carol looked a little awed as he finished his explanation. 

“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” she said with another shake of her head. 

Daryl’s lips lifted unwillingly. 

“To me, it does,” he told her. “All of that’s inside you, even now.” 

“I don’t think it is,” she replied quietly. 

Daryl brought his hand up and covered hers where it still rested on his arm. He stroked his thumb over her skin gently. It was soft and a little cold due to the night air. He figured if he closed his eyes, it would be easy to imagine he was holding the hand of the woman he had grown to know. 

“I do,” he insisted. “I’ve seen it. Every day, I’ve seen it.” 

Carol looked down at their hands before looking back to his face. After a moment, she smiled. A real smile. No hint of uncertainty in it this time. It wasn’t anything like the wide smiles he had once received at the prison but it was a step closer to the confident woman she had been then. His heart skipped a beat. 

“You really mean all that, don’t you?” she asked a little breathlessly. 

Daryl returned her smile with a lift of his lips. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. He had never been good with words but apparently, what he had said had been the right thing. 

“Every word,” he confirmed with a nod. 

Carol looked him up and down again. There was a strange look in her eyes now, one he didn’t know how to interpret. She wet her lips and his eyes were drawn to the movement of her tongue. He forced them away guiltily. Stop it, he told himself in frustration. This wasn’t his Carol. Even if she was, she wouldn’t appreciate being looked at like that. 

“Are you sure you’re real?” she asked quietly. 

The question took him off guard so much that he snorted. He leaned back a little, squinting at her. Did she just ask him if he was real? What kind of question was that? 

“What?” he asked, unable to stop the hint of a laugh that accompanied the word. 

Carol blushed and ducked her head, looking like she wanted to disappear into that ridiculous cardigan. She curled her arms tighter around herself. 

“I just… When you showed up in our tent, I saw the wing on your back,” she explained sheepishly. “I thought for a minute that you were an angel sent by God to protect me,” her cheeks reddened more as she said it. 

Daryl had to fight the urge to laugh. Not because he thought she was stupid for what she had confessed. Just, the thought of him, Daryl Dixon, being an angel was fucking crazy. What kind of angel smoked cigarettes and growled when they talked?  
He schooled his features before replying to her. He didn’t want her to think he was making fun of her and he figured it would be easy for it to come across that way with how deep her insecurities ran. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand again, trying to offer some comfort. 

“I ain’t no angel,” he told her in a serious voice. “Just someone who cares about you a lot.” 

Carol watched him carefully. There was tension in her features as she studied him. She blew out a breath eventually and that pinched look disappeared. She relaxed her tense posture, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. 

“When I realised he was hurtin’ you, I just… Saw red, I guess,” Daryl continued speaking. He didn’t know if he should, but the words came anyway. “I don’t like it when you get hurt.” 

Carol nodded, looking satisfied by his explanation. There was still that hint of uncertainty about her like she was still trying to fight against every word he told her. He could empathise. That was what he had done the whole time they had been on the farm. It hadn’t been easy for him to accept that someone genuinely cared about him and he guessed it was the same for her. 

“Well, thank you,” she said shyly, picking a piece of lint from the sleeve of her cardigan and letting the breeze carry it away. 

Daryl gave her a half-smile and nodded. He sobered when he realised he had a question of his own for her. 

“Why’d you stop me?” he asked softly. 

He already had a few theories, one being that, at this point, none of the group had been okay with killing the living, but he was curious to hear what she would say. Carol had told him how much she had wished for her husband’s death. How she had even prayed for God to rain hell down on him. If she had really thought he was some avenging angel, why had she not let him carry out that justice for her? 

Carol seemed to think over his question deeply. She shifted in place and rubbed her hands over her upper arms. That cardigan was doing nothing to stave off the chill. He wished he had a jacket he could offer her but it would have been no good even if he did have one. There was no way she would accept it. She would worry too much about what that asshole would think. 

“Part of me didn’t want you to stop,” she said finally. She was still rubbing at her arms but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold now. “But then, I realised, me and Sophia, we’d have no one.”

Daryl’s heart ached at her reply. He should have known that was the reason. She thought she didn’t have anyone. As much as she hated the prick, she thought having him there was better than being alone. And he understood. Abusers made it seem like you needed them. That you would be nothing without them. Ed had drummed that into her head. Brainwashed her until that was the only thing that seemed true. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t true for his father and it certainly wasn’t true for Carol’s husband. She and Sophia didn’t need him. 

“You don’t need him,” he told her out loud. “You think it’s better because you ain’t alone, but he ain’t good for you.”

It made him remember a moment, years ago in a little prison cell, where Carol had told him the same thing about Merle. She had been right then. As much as he had wanted to have his brother back, he had known that he had grown too much to fall back into the life he had once led. It felt good to be able to deliver that advice back to her somehow. 

“And he certainly ain’t good for your little girl,” Daryl continued adamantly. “You think you’d have no one? I’m tellin’ you, you’re wrong.”

Carol was silent as he spoke but she seemed to be hanging onto his every word. There were tears glittered in her soft blue eyes. 

“You’d have me,” he vowed, pouring all of his emotions into the words. “I know, technically speakin’, we just met, but I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you or your little girl.” 

Carol’s breath caught and a few tears spilled over. She brought her hands up to quickly swipe at her eyes but she didn’t attempt to speak. That was fine because he wasn’t done yet. 

“I got a tent right here,” he told her vehemently, pointing at the tent he had emerged from. “You can bring Sophia and both of you can stay here. I’ll make sure he don’t touch either of you,” he promised. 

He wanted her to know that she could have her freedom if she wanted it. She didn’t have to keep walking on eggshells and fearing every breath she took in the space where she was living. Didn’t have to always keep one eye open while she slept in case her husband got it in his head to do something to her little girl. 

If he had it his way, Ed would already be a footnote in history, but it wasn’t just about him. Carol hadn’t wanted it to happen and while that may have been misguided, he wasn’t going to go against her wishes. He watched her bite her lip before a small sob escaped her. It made Daryl’s stomach clench. He didn’t know what prompted it and he hoped it hadn’t been anything he had said. He waited her out, not attempting to say anything further in fear of worsening the situation. 

“I… Daryl, you have no idea how tempting it is, how much I want to accept your offer,” she said, her words as tearful as her eyes. 

Daryl could tell there was a ‘but’ coming to her response. She wasn’t going to accept, he already knew. And he couldn’t deny, the impending rejection hurt. It shouldn’t. She was just being honest in her feelings on the matter. She was conflicted. It had nothing to do with him. But part of him had been hoping she would agree. That she would choose to lean on him as she had once done so often. 

In the future, the Carol he knew hadn’t looked to him for support and comfort for a long time, shutting herself off and going it alone. That hurt more than he would ever admit. He loved her every way she came, but he couldn’t deny he missed being her protector at times.

She used to look to him like he was her fucking hero. Like he was the angel she had just confessed to suspect he was. And it had made him feel good, useful, even proud. Nowadays, she didn’t need a hero. She was her own goddamn hero and that was right. Of course, it was. But he missed that look in her eyes sometimes. 

“But I don’t know if I can,” she continued. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready. It’s just… It’s a lot for me to consider.” 

Daryl sighed but nodded. He wasn’t going to force her. It had to be her choice. As much as he wanted her safe and away from that bastard, he knew he couldn’t take away her autonomy. That was what Ed had done to her already. His selfish wants and feelings were something he would have to deal with alone. 

He had to remember that this was not the Carol he knew. He had to stop projecting his feelings for her onto this woman. Stop expecting her to just fall into the role of his best friend. It had taken years to build that trust and familiarity. She couldn’t give him what he needed. That would only come from his Carol and he was probably never going to see her again. He swallowed hard at that reminder. 

“I get it,” he told her. “It’s your choice, but if you change your mind, that offer’s good for ‘if’ and ‘when’ you’re ready for it.” 

Carol blew out a breath and reached up to wipe at her eyes. She attempted a smile but didn’t quite achieve it. 

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll think about it.” 

Daryl nodded again. That was all he could ask at the moment. He could keep an eye on them just fine from afar. Their tent was close enough to his that he would be able to hear if they were in trouble. 

“What’s going on here?” 

The voice came out of nowhere and both of them jumped at the unexpected intrusion. It was a testament to how absorbed Daryl had been in Carol that he hadn’t heard the man’s approach. Especially this man. He was worse than Rick at quieting his footsteps. 

“Shane!” Carol gasped, taking a step back from Daryl. 

Daryl knew it wasn’t Shane she feared. She feared the fact that Shane had caught her here alone with a strange man. She probably feared he would let it slip to Ed and she would have to pay for it. Shane eyed the situation carefully before shaking his head. He approached Carol and placed a hand on her upper arm. He tugged her toward him. 

“Come on, Carol, you shouldn’t be around this guy,” Shane told her in a voice that even 

Daryl found condescending. He spoke to her as if she was a kid. 

Carol opened her mouth but then nodded. She kept her head down as she let Shane pull her along. While she was putting up no resistance, Daryl caught the way she shifted her arm, a sure sign of her discomfort. Daryl’s blood boiled. 

“Let her go!” he spat at Shane. He knew the man meant well, but seeing her look so uncomfortable and knowing she wouldn’t speak up for herself made him rage inside. 

Shane shot him a derisive look, not relinquishing his hold on her arm. The minimal respect he had shown Daryl earlier seemed to be gone now. 

“How ‘bout you mind your own business, man?” Shane said, still glaring. “I let you into this camp, but I see you cornering our women again, we won’t be on such friendly terms no more.” 

“If you’d pull your head outta your ass for a damn minute, you’d see she don’t want you puttin’ your hands on her!” he growled, taking a step towards him.

Shane didn’t drop his glare but after a moment, he glanced at Carol. His eyes roamed over her and Daryl guessed he finally saw what Daryl had because he removed his hand from her arm. Carol visibly relaxed. 

“Sorry,” Shane told her, looking genuinely apologetic. 

He was such a meathead sometimes, Daryl thought to himself derisively. He had always thought so, especially on the farm. Never bothering to pay attention to others around him. It was like he lived in a world where he believed everything revolved around him. Daryl was positive that that attitude had been the catalyst to his downfall. Carol gave Shane a weak smile and shook her head.

“It’s okay, Shane.” 

He nodded and looked from Carol to Daryl and back again. He looked a little suspicious now like something had just occurred to him. 

“What was going on here?” he asked, directing the question more to Carol.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes meeting Daryl’s for a moment before looking back to Shane. He hadn’t missed the calculating look that had been in her eyes. 

“We were just talking,” she told him. “It turns out, I knew him a long time ago,” she said with a half-smile. 

Daryl stared at her in shock for the lie that had just tumbled easily from her mouth. It wasn’t a secret to him that Carol was an amazing liar. It scared him sometimes how good she was. But he hadn’t counted on this. Shane considered her words for a moment, looking from her to Daryl and back again. 

“You two knew each other?” he asked, addressing both of them this time. 

Daryl nodded, going along with Carol’s lie. He hoped she would be the one to elaborate because he had no clue what to say. It was at that moment he realised too that he hadn’t even told her that he had given Shane a false name. His heart started beating faster at the knowledge. He hoped she wouldn’t blow his cover. 

“In high school,” Carol continued, still smiling. “We fell out of touch when he moved away. Haven’t seen him in years.” 

Shane eyed her for a while, probably gauging her sincerity. His gaze switched to Daryl a moment later. Despite his reluctance to lie, Daryl knew he would have to contribute something. 

“Uh, yeah,” he started, wincing inwardly a moment later. Great start genius, he admonished. “We were real good friends. Used to hang out all the time. Toss acorns at cans.” 

He didn’t know why he had added that anecdote. Perhaps it was because it helped soothe the sensation of the lie to have a bit of truth in there. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help smiling a little at the memory of that day in the woods. The rest of the trip had been a bust but that moment was one he liked to remember. 

“That’s real good you found each other again,” Shane said, bringing Daryl back to the present. There was even a smile on the man’s face now. “Sorry for jumping to conclusions. Didn’t know if I could trust you,” he added with a look in Daryl’s direction. 

This kind version of Shane was still so odd for him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. That was how he had been at the start. Kind, caring and confident, a lot like Rick. But the image of the psychopath who had wanted to kill his best friend had made a lasting impression. Daryl gave him a nod. 

“All good. You were just tryin’ to protect your people.”

Shane nodded his head. He placed his hands on his hips and blew out a breath. He looked exhausted. 

“Well, it’s late. I’m gonna head back to camp,” he said. “Carol, you gonna be okay to get back to your tent?” he asked with a look of concern in her direction. 

Daryl sighed inwardly at how patronising that was. Her tent was literally three down from his own. Even the first time around, Daryl had seen how little faith Shane had in Carol’s abilities. His scathing remark as they were attempting to escape the CDC was something Daryl could still recall. He smirked inwardly at the memory of how Carol had shown him. A fucking grenade! Who would have thought? He’d certainly been impressed at the time. 

“I’ll be fine,” Carol told him. “Thanks though.” 

Shane looked placated by her assurance. He turned to leave but paused. He looked back over his shoulder at Daryl. 

“Look, I wasn’t sure about you, but now I know you’re a friend of Carol’s, maybe you wouldn’t mind joining the watch rotation. We’re running a little thin on muscle at the moment with the group gone and your brother on his hunt.” 

Daryl knew how big of a step that was for Shane. For all his shortcomings, he took the group’s safety seriously, especially the safety of Lori and Carl. Daryl inclined his head in acceptance. 

“Let me know when you want me,” Daryl agreed. It wouldn’t have done him any good to refuse the olive branch he had just been offered. Shane dipped his head in a nod. 

“Alright. We can work out the details tomorrow. You two have a good night.” 

With that, he continued his way out of the smaller camp, disappearing into the darkness. That left Daryl and Carol standing across from each other, alone once more. Carol blew out a breath as if in relief and he did the same. 

“Thanks for coverin’ my ass back there. Shane looked ready to put a bullet in me,” Daryl said as he watched her. 

Carol cracked a tiny smile at his words. 

“I know. That’s why I did it. I knew what it probably looked like with me being all weepy.” 

Daryl hadn’t even considered that. No wonder Shane had reacted the way he had. Probably thought he’d tried to hurt her or something. He felt a little guilty for his less than kind thoughts about the man now. He shook his head. Then he remembered what he needed to tell her. 

“Forgot to tell you, I told him my name was Norman. That Merle and the other me were my brothers,” Daryl told her. “He wouldn’t have been as understandin’ as you about me being a time traveller.” 

Carol nodded, accepting his explanation. She cocked her head a moment later though. 

“Why Norman?” she asked curiously. 

“Was my Pop’s name. Not my dad, my grandpa. Got it tattooed right over my heart,” he replied easily, tapping the spot on his chest. He felt the shape of the double acorns through his shirt. “Was the first name that popped in my head. Guess I’m stuck with it now,” he said with a shrug. 

Carol nodded again but she had a blush on her cheeks. He didn’t know what had prompted it but it looked real pretty on her. He quickly shut that thought down. What the hell was wrong with him? Couldn’t his brain interpret when it wasn’t a good time and place for that shit? 

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo,” she muttered almost to herself. 

Daryl’s lips lifted. It was an odd statement for her to make. Of course, she wouldn’t know that. She had no reason to know it. No reason to pay close attention to him. And it wasn’t like he flashed them around with his shirt off anyway. 

“Got more’n one,” he decided to tell her. “Got one on my back, one on my arm, one on my leg. Don’t like them ones ‘cause I was drunk when I got ‘em and the tattoo artist kinda fu-- Uh, messed ‘em up,” he said stopping himself from cursing. 

He didn’t know why he was telling her this. He had never talked to his Carol about his tattoos. Not that she had ever asked. But he guessed he just wanted to keep talking to this woman. As much as he was trying to think of them as two different people, she was still the last piece he had of Carol. It was hard not to want to be around her. She looked interested at least as he listed off his ink and she let out a little chuckle at his almost cuss. 

“Got a star on my hand here,” he held up his hand to show her the little star between his thumb and forefinger. “That one was for my mama. She liked stars.” 

Carol smiled at his words as she looked at the little tattoo. 

“That’s a nice memento of her,” she commented. 

Daryl swallowed and nodded. He didn’t want to tell her that the reason he had got it was because it was one of the only good things he remembered about his mother. When she hadn’t been passed out drunk, sometimes she would point out the window at the little sparkling dots in the sky and tell him about the constellations. He couldn’t really remember her words. He would have only been about five or six at the time, after all. But it was a rare memory of his childhood that he liked. 

“Got this one after the world ended,” he said, hastily changing the subject so he didn’t start crying. He showed her the skull and crosses on the back of his hand. 

Carol looked at it with interest. She turned her eyes to his, curiosity obvious in them. 

“What does it mean?” she asked. 

“The skull don’t really mean nothin’. One who designed just thought it’d look cool,” he told her with a hint of a laugh. “But the crosses, they represent the people in my family,” he said more seriously. 

The one who had designed the tattoo had been Judith. When they had picked up a lonely tattoo artist outside the gates, Judith had become determined to create the perfect tattoo for him. He had never considered getting any more done but he decided to humour the girl. She had shown him numerous drawings that she’d done and he’d told her that he liked all of them, not even lying. But she hadn’t been satisfied. So she kept doodling until she presented him with the skull and crosses triumphantly.

He had looked at it and praised it the same as he had the others but he had asked her the context too. She had told him the skull was because it looked badass like him, which had gotten a laugh out of him. Then, she told him that the crosses represented each member of their little family. The ones that were left at least. One for Judith, one for RJ, one for Michonne and one for Carol. So he hadn’t hesitated to take the drawing to the artist. 

“That’s sweet,” Carol said, snapping him back to the present. She was smiling that soft smile again. “It’s nice that you have them to remind you of important things like that.” 

Daryl nodded. More so now than ever, he thought. He probably wouldn’t see his family again. Not the way he had known them at least. So, he was grateful for the reminder even as his heart tugged. He loved RJ but he’d always had more of a connection to Judith. She and him just seemed to get each other. It made his eyes water a little to think that he would never get to hear her call him ‘Uncle Daryl’ again. 

“You left a lot behind to come back here, didn’t you?” Carol assessed astutely with a concerned look. 

“I did,” he replied, not bothering to deny it. “Wasn’t an easy decision but it was one I had to make.” 

“Well, I hope everything you’re trying to do works out for you,” she said with a bit of a lift to her lips. 

“So do I.” 

A gust of wind blew through the little campsite in the silence that followed. It was picking up a bit and Daryl worried that a storm may be approaching. He watched Carol shiver violently. 

“You should get to bed,” he told her. “You’re gonna freeze out here.” 

Carol nodded. She hesitated before turning away. She took a few steps in the direction of her tent before pausing and looking back at him. 

“Thank you again, for… For everything.” 

Daryl gave her a small smile. 

“ ‘Course. You need anythin’, you or your girl, you just let me know.” 

She nodded but she stayed in place. There seemed to be something else on her mind. 

“What?” he asked curiously. 

“Did you and I really toss acorns at cans?” she asked sceptically. 

Daryl huffed a laugh, not expecting that that was what had been whirring in her mind. He nodded with a smile. 

“We did. Not too long ago, for me at least. Between you and me, you kinda kicked my ass at it,” he told her. 

He was granted with a laugh that lit up her eyes. He grinned. He wished she could smile like that all the time. 

“I doubt that,” she said when she stopped laughing. 

“ It’s true. I was missin’ every damn shot,” he insisted with a chuckle. He chewed his lip as he considered something. “You gave me something that day. Want to see it?” he asked. 

He didn’t know why he wanted to show her the acorns. Maybe because it was tangible proof that their friendship existed and he wanted her to have no doubts about that. She was still smiling as she nodded with a look of intrigue. He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved the acorns. He held them out to her. She took them from him gently as if they were priceless antiques. She examined them closely. 

“Double capper,” she murmured. She raised her eyes to his with a soft smile. “They’re good luck.”

Daryl smiled. As if he needed more proof that this was the same woman he knew. He nodded at her. 

“So I’ve heard. They’ve brought me real good luck so far. Always carry ‘em with me.” 

She handed the acorns back to him. He dropped them back in his pocket, doing up the button to secure them. 

“I wish I had been there that day. Sounds like it was nice,” she commented. 

“Nice days are coming for you too,” he told her, hoping like hell it was true. If he had any say, it would be. 

She smiled as she seemed to consider his words. 

“I hope so,” she replied. 

He returned it. He waited to see if there was anything else she wanted to talk about, but it seemed she had nothing more on her mind right now. 

“Goodnight, Daryl,” she said. 

He dipped his head, still smiling a little. 

“Night Carol.”


	11. Femme Fatale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol and John's brief relationship comes to a head. 
> 
> Big TRIGGER WARNING for this chapter. 
> 
> It includes unwilling, almost sex. It's not a terribly violent scene, but it's clear from Carol's thoughts that she is not into what's going on and that may be triggering for some people. 
> 
> I'll also let you know there is some blood in this that may gross you out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> Hope you like this. Some of you (those who are fans of these kind of angsty scenarios) might have been hoping the thing with John got dragged out more or maybe you hoped Daryl would save her, but I never intended for it to go on for long. Also, I'm a big fan of Carol saving herself, to be honest. She's a certified badass, after all, as Negan would say. 
> 
> Also, I already put it in the chapter summary, but just in case, I'll reiterate: TRIGGER WARNING for attempted rape and blood.

The air had grown chilly in the campsite as the day turned into night. 

There hadn’t been much in the way of conversation up until now. After making sure her bound hands were secure, John had set about checking the perimeter and whatever other tasks he felt needed tending to in the camp. Carol had watched silently, inwardly plotting her escape. 

Now, they both sat across from each other on logs around the campfire. John was watching her closely and Carol did her best to keep her calculating thoughts hidden. She wanted him to believe without a doubt that she was weak and harmless.

“So Nancy, what are you doing out here all alone?” John asked after a long silence. 

Carol didn’t hesitate in her reply. 

“I was with a group of people for a while. We got separated the other day when we ran into a herd,” she said, affecting a tone of sadness. “My husband… He…” she added, calling forth some tears to really sell the story. 

John’s face took on an expression of sympathy, but she could see through it easily. He didn’t really care. He just wanted it to appear as if he did. 

“Aw, that’s a real shame. My condolences.” 

She nodded, giving him a grateful look. 

“Thank you. I thought I’d be alone forever after I lost him, but I couldn’t just give up.” 

“Well, you’re not alone now, are you?” John commented with a grin that would have been completely inappropriate if she had in fact been grieving. 

“I know. I was lucky to run into you,” she told him with a small smile. 

John, of course, was pleased with her words. His grin widened and he poked at the fire with a stick before looking at her again. There was some curiosity about him now. 

“That bow you had, you any good with it?” he asked with a calculating look. 

Carol knew she had to be careful here. If she let him know she was at all proficient with weapons, his guard would raise significantly. It didn’t matter that she was currently unarmed, he would still start to see her as a threat. She was already lucky he had believed her weakness up until now since he’d already gotten a glimpse of her true self when they had first met. 

“Oh no, that thing?” she said with a chuckle. “My husband taught me a little. The basics really, but I’m nowhere near confident. I managed to take down a rabbit once, so I guess I’m not completely hopeless.” 

She was purposeful in playing down her skills but carefully veiling it behind a front of insecurity. If she just said that she didn’t know how to use it, he would easily be able to tell she was lying. She had had him lined up perfectly when he found her. She had to admit to having a little experience to help sell the lie. 

“Taking down a rabbit? That ain’t no small thing, darlin’. Fuckers are pretty fast,” John commented as if trying to make her feel better. “Tell you what. I’m not bad at it myself. If we go back and get your bow, I could show you a few tricks,” he offered under the guise of kindness. 

She smiled at him brightly. 

“Thank you. That would be great,” she replied enthusiastically. 

All of these niceties, though necessary, made her skin crawl. She knew what this man had planned for her. He wasn’t fooling her. Similarly, she knew what she had planned for him. It was like a fucked up foreplay. She just wanted it over with so she could get out of there and go find Daryl. 

She wondered what he was doing right now. Had he made it to the quarry camp? He must have. He was probably there right now, marvelling at the oddness of being in the place where they had all started. He had possibly even talked to her younger self already. That was strange to think about. There were two versions of her in this world now. She didn’t   
know how she felt about seeing the woman she used to be. She had hated being that person. So weak and fearful. 

“Hey, Nancy,” she heard John say, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

She blinked and looked to him. He had gotten to his feet now and was standing with his hands on his hips. His eyes were watching her appreciatively. She saw how they flickered downwards to the strip of skin exposed above the neckline of her shirt. She fought the urge to fasten the last buttons on her jacket to cover herself. 

“Yes?” she replied nonchalantly as if she hadn’t noticed his wandering eyes. 

“Getting mighty cold,” John commented, licking his lips. His eyes had taken on an unmistakable eagerness. “Should get inside the tent and warm up.” 

This was it: Her chance. There was no denying what he intended to happen in that tent. If his attention was focused on his lustful appetite, she should be able to get her hands on that dagger. She just had to be strong enough to go along with whatever happened beforehand. 

“You’re right, it is pretty cold,” she replied, faking innocence. “Which one is your tent?” 

John grinned at her response and inclined his head in the direction of the closest one. She stood from the log and moved over to him. Her wrists were burning at this point from the rope that bound her hands behind her back. She walked ahead of him towards the tent, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. She stepped inside, but it was almost pitch black in the interior of the tent. That would make things difficult. 

“Do you have a light?” she asked. “Not a fan of the dark,” she said, making her tone one of embarrassment. 

She had already worked out that John was pretty much motivated by his pride. Well, pride and his dick. He liked to think he was a big strong man protecting the weak little woman. That made it all too easy to manipulate him how she liked. 

There was a muffled sound of fabric before a tell-tale noise of a match striking up. The little flame lit up John’s face and she shivered despite herself at the menacing promise she saw in his eyes. He gave her another of his chilling grins and moved away from her. He crouched in the corner for a moment before the tent was filled with a dull but warm glow. As he stepped back, she spotted the lantern that emanated light. 

“Thanks,” she muttered with a faux grateful look. She stood in the centre of the tent, waiting for things to progress. 

John moved close again, stopping a few inches in front of her. He looked her up and down with darkening eyes. 

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, not even attempting to meet her gaze as he spoke. “Should have a little mood lighting anyway, right?” he added seemingly as an afterthought. 

Before she could even make an attempt at a reply, he was on her. One of his large hands reached out and wrapped around the back of her neck. She forced herself not to pull away even though her instincts were screaming at her. She let him pull her towards him and didn’t resist when he brought their mouths together. 

He didn’t bother trying to be gentle. He kissed her roughly, thrusting his tongue into the depths of her mouth as if he were trying to climb inside. His teeth tugged painfully on her lips now and then, thankfully not breaking the skin. All the while, she forced herself to kiss him back. Inside, her stomach was rolling from the taste of him. Stale, rank, and disgusting. She powered through it. She needed him to believe she was going to let this happen. 

He pushed her back soon and she relished the moment of reprieve to suck in a breath. His hands drifted down her sides to settle on her hips tightly. He lowered himself to his knees, pulling her down with him. He went to push her back to lie down but she held her position. He gave her an irritated look. 

“I thought we had an understanding sugar,” he growled. 

Carol gave him a placating smile, leaning her body into his, letting her chest brush against him. 

“We do. I just… My hands are getting really cramped,” she said with a fake wince of pain. “Do you think you could untie them for now?” 

John’s expression grew suspicious. His hands came up and gripped her shoulders hard. He bared his teeth at her like a wild dog. 

“You tryin’ to play me?” he hissed aggressively. 

“No,” she gasped widening her eyes as if the prospect was ludicrous. “I’m not going to try anything, I swear. It’s just, if we’re doing this, I’d like to be able to participate properly.   
Can’t do that with my hands tied,” she said, giving him a meek smile. 

John wasn’t easily swayed though. Apparently, there was a hint of a brain in his head somewhere. His fingers tightened their grip on her shoulders. She bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. He was a lot stronger than his lanky frame would suggest. She could already picture the bruises that would be left behind. 

“I ain’t stupid, you know! Why the hell would you want to do this? You don’t know me, not to mention I took you, hostage,” John spat at her, shaking her a little. “You’re tryin’ to figure out how to escape! Soon as I untie you, you’re gonna—“

“My husband!” she cried out, cutting off his tirade. She couldn’t let those ideas fester. She had to bring him back to how things had been before. 

John blinked at her and stared for a moment. His fingers loosened their grip on her shoulders a little. She took a breath to continue. 

“When we were together, he was so weak. Always making me do all the work,” she lied with a whimper. “I’ve always wanted to be with someone who took control. Did what they liked to me.” 

It was all a load of shit of course. Ed had always been in control in the bedroom. Any sign from her that she was trying to enjoy it would earn her a smack in the mouth. Sometimes worse. According to Ed, women weren’t supposed to enjoy sex. Only whores did. So, she would let him do what he wanted. In the early days, before he revealed himself as a total bastard, she would wait until he fell asleep to tend to her own needs guiltily. 

But this man here didn’t know her. Didn’t know any of that stuff and that would work in her favour. She could easily play the unsatisfied housewife who just wanted to be dominated by a strong man. She had met plenty of those kinds of women before the turn and after. 

John’s eyes seared into hers in the aftermath of her ‘confession’. He was clearly weighing the truth of her words and gauging if she was a threat. She kept her expression pleading as she waited him out. In a bid to reawaken his lust, she rubbed her thighs together as if trying to ward off arousal. His eyes zeroed in on the action as she had suspected they would. His dark look ebbed away and he grinned wolfishly. 

“Damn! How the hell did I get so lucky to find you, darlin’?” he commented, looking her up and down with renewed desire. “Don’t you worry, I’m gonna give you what you need.” 

Carol gave a seductive smirk back to him. His eyes immediately dropped to her chest. He licked his lips. 

“Alright, I’ll untie you. You just make sure you be good for me and we won’t have no trouble,” he said, freeing a knife from his belt. He reached behind her and made quick work of cutting through the rope. 

Carol sighed in relief as her hands were freed. Her wrists were incredibly sore and she suspected they were bleeding. She brought them in front of her and flexed them to get the circulation flowing again. Thankfully, there was no blood. John didn’t allow her much time to recover. 

“Get that jacket off!” he ordered impatiently. “And your shirt!” 

She unbuttoned her jean jacket and pulled it off, tossing it to the side. Then, she unbuttoned her shirt quickly before discarding that too. Now, she sat in front of him in her black bra. She shivered a little as the cold breeze coming into the tent hit her bare skin. 

John’s hands shot forward immediately, covering her breasts and squeezing them roughly. She winced internally at the pressure but out loud, she moaned as if it felt good. He reached behind her and his fingers fumbled with the clasp at her back. After a few attempts, it released and he roughly tugged the garment away from her body. 

His eyes were dark and lustful as he stared down at her newly revealed flesh. She was just thankful that the tent was too dimly lit for him to see her scars. His hands closed over her breasts again and started roughly massaging them and tugging at her nipples. She’d probably have bruises there later, still, she didn’t allow her discomfort to show. She let out moans that sounded reminiscent of the ridiculous pornos Ed used to like. 

John released one of her breasts and leaned down, enclosing his mouth over it instead. His tongue started flicking over her nipple and she grimaced in displeasure. She would be scrubbing herself raw later. He sucked and licked at her nipple, all the while squeezing her other breast roughly. When he bit down on her sensitive peak, she cried out in surprise and pain. Of course, he didn’t care, just repeated the action without pausing. 

Thankfully, he didn’t spend too long torturing her chest. He pulled away, releasing her sore flesh to pull his own shirt over his head. Once it was gone, he leaned down and captured her lips again. He pressed her down into the floor of the tent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies flush together. His chest hairs brushed   
painfully over her nipples but she pushed the sensation from her mind. 

His tongue invaded her mouth again making her want to vomit. She ignored the awful taste and massaged it with hers. She spread her legs, letting him settle between them. She felt his erection pressing into the junction of her thighs and she bucked her hips into it. He let out a groan into her mouth. 

He kept kissing her without an ounce of gentleness. He alternated between plundering her mouth, and biting and sucking at her neck. After a while, one of his hands closed over her breast again. Her body screamed against the pressure and if she hadn’t wanted to kill him before, she certainly did now. She dug her nails into his back to try to ground herself. It wasn’t the time to let her rage out yet. She needed to get her hands on that dagger first. 

John seemed to take the action as encouragement because he let out a chuckle against her lips. His hips had been rutting against her but they slowed and came to a stop. He lifted himself up and of her and rested back on his heels. 

“Get your pants off, now!” he ordered with a sharp slap to her thigh. 

Carol fought the urge to kick him in the face for the move. She sat up and brought her hands to her belt. She undid it and went to work on her button and zipper next. Inside, she plotted. If she could get him to avert his eyes for a moment, she could get that dagger out. She got her pants open and started shoving them down her legs. John was watching her with interest the whole time. That was no good. 

“You too,” she commented in a teasing, seductive tone. She nodded to his jean-clad lower half meaningfully. 

“So damn eager baby,” he teased back at her. “Can’t wait to see the goods, can you?” he replied with a confident smirk. His hands dropped to his belt and started working it open. 

His eyes had drifted down to assist in his task. Which was exactly what she needed. 

She leaned forward and slipped her fingers into her boot. They closed around the hilt of the dagger and tugged it out. It was still in its sheath, so she slipped it out swiftly. She glanced at John but he was still intent on working his pants open. She quickly sat back and pushed the dagger under her left thigh, to be in easy reach. 

Inwardly sighing in relief now that she had her means of escape, she pushed her pants the rest of the way off, kicking off her boots in the process. As much as she’d like to just stab the bastard now, she knew things would go smoother if he was more off guard. He still had that knife in his belt and it was much more substantial than her tiny dagger. She lowered herself back to the floor of the tent. She could feel the dagger digging into the skin of her thigh. She hoped this would all be over before it did any real damage. 

John had finally gotten his jeans undone and he inched them down over his hips. His length sprung forth immediately, hard and engorged with blood, but in actual fact, quite small. She had to control herself so she didn’t laugh.

She wouldn’t be that judgemental in any other situation. She was never one to buy into the whole ‘Size matters’ thing. But this man had paraded around her like he was god’s gift to women, not to mention, causing her all manner of discomfort. She was unable to feel anything less than entitled to her pettiness. Still, she had a part to play here. She crafted a look of disbelief on her face. 

“Oh my,” she gasped. “It’s so big,” it took everything she had to actually say the words. 

Nevertheless, John was pleased with her reaction. He practically preened, thrusting his hips forward. Feeling the endgame approaching, Carol spread her legs. She was only clad in her black panties now and she was determined to get this done with before she ever had to think about losing them. 

John lowered himself over her again, slotting his hips between her thighs. The dagger was far enough to the left of her leg that he wouldn’t accidentally brush against it himself. She hoped, at least. If he did, this could all backfire spectacularly. 

She felt his erection sliding against her inner thigh and fought against her desire to shove him off her. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his hips, Her hands settled on his back as if to encourage him. He thrust forward with his hips, pushing that disgusting piece of flesh into her further. His eyes were glued to her face. 

“You like that baby?” he asked her in a self-satisfied way. 

Carol gave him a moan in reply, fighting her distaste and bucking her hips into him. She felt him twitch against her thigh. 

“Fuck!” he spat in a breathy voice. “Fuck this, I gotta fuck you now.” 

He pulled back and she watched his hand pull his knife from his belt. She tensed a little without meaning to. She didn’t want him anywhere near that knife right now. He seemed to notice her reaction. He gave her a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. 

“Don’t worry honey, just gonna cut those panties off you. It’ll be real hot, I promise,” he told her as he moved towards her again. The metal of the blade glinted a little in the lantern light. 

She gave him a nod, while her fingers crept down under her thigh. She gripped the handle of the dagger, inching it out from under her. She kept her movements slow and subtle so as not to draw his attention. But his eyes were focused on her clothed centre. His hand reached out for one side of her panties. He slipped a finger between the fabric and her   
flesh, pulling it so the elastic stretched. He then brought the knife forward. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged in a whimper, laying it on thick. 

John’s eyes darted to hers. He smirked cockily. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

His eyes returned to where his hands were, intent on cutting through the scrap of fabric that covered her. But he never got to. 

Her hand brought the dagger up swiftly and surely, slashing through the air. For a moment, nothing happened. John just stared at her in disbelief. Eyes wide and confused. But then, red started seeping from a thin line in his throat where she had cut him. The blood started pouring down his torso, thick and flowing. It splattered onto her bare chest and stomach. 

“Sorry I can’t promise you the same, darling,” she retorted coldly as she watched him bleed with satisfaction. 

John’s hand came up to clutch at the wound, trying and failing to hold it closed. His eyes were still wide with panic but there was also anger there. He was pissed. His other hand tried to take a swipe at her with the knife still in it. She ducked her body back a little and kicked his chest with her right foot. He fell easily, landing on his back on the tent floor. She got to her feet quickly. 

His hand groped about aimlessly around the floor. Her eyes zeroed in on his goal. The shirts laying on the floor nearby. He clearly wished to get hold of one of them to staunch the blood. Well, that wasn’t happening. She grabbed them and pulled them further out of his reach. She came to stand over his writhing form. He was staring up at her desperately. The anger from before had disappeared. All that was left was a pathetic, weak man. 

She let her feelings of disgust show for the first time as she peered down at him. A spluttering, gurgling noise escaped his mouth along with a stream of blood. One hand remained at his throat, trying to knit the skin together while his other was trying to push himself up from the floor. 

“You…” he tried, the sound coming out wet and broken. “You bitch!” he finally uttered. 

Carol felt no shame as she continued to glare down at him. If it hadn’t been her, it would have probably been a helpless woman who would have had no way to fight back. She didn’t feel any remorse for her actions. 

Killing the living was something she had struggled with for a while. She had even believed she was evil for a time. Eventually, she had been able to accept that sometimes, this was the only answer and some people just deserved it. That was the category that John fell into. 

She picked up her bra from the floor and pulled it on, clipping it in place. She then pulled her shirt on over the top. She calmly buttoned it up as John’s life force ran out of him in front of her. Her skin felt sticky and gross. Not just from the blood. It was like she could still feel his hands and mouth on her. But now was not the time to worry about it. That would wait until after he was dealt with. She tugged her pants on and bent down to get her boots back on her feet. 

She knew she could plunge her knife into his skull and end him already, but she selfishly wanted the scumbag to suffer a little more. He didn’t deserve a quick death. Part of her wanted to torture him a bit more too. To make him fully regret ever touching a woman without her explicit consent. But she wouldn’t. She knew it would open her to an even darker side of herself that she didn’t want. She was dark enough already. She wouldn’t let him take her there any further. 

John’s torso and the ground below him were covered in dark blood by now. The flow from his throat had slowed down considerably and his eyes weren’t even looking at her anymore. They were staring at the roof of the tent blankly. The only sign that he was still alive was the slight rising of his chest. It wouldn’t be long though. 

When her boots were laced up, she picked up her jacket and tugged it over her arms. The chill from outside had started to permeate the air in the tent. It was uncommonly cold for a Georgia night and she wondered if they might be expecting rain. That would be annoying. If it rained, she would have trouble making her way back. 

She sighed and looked around the tent properly for the first time. There was a pack in one corner so she crossed to it to take a closer look. Inside were some water bottles, some beef jerky, a few bottles of painkillers and a few other useful odds and ends. She closed it up with a hint of a smile. At least she had found something worthwhile for her pains. There were three other tents in this campsite, she remembered. There could be more supplies that would come in handy. She would check them out as soon as she was sure John was taken care of. 

Other than the pack, there wasn’t much else in John’s tent. A machete, the gun he had used to threaten her with, a bedroll and the lantern. She glanced down at John who was undoubtedly dead now. His eyes stared up at the roof of the tent, glassy and unseeing. 

Part of her wanted to leave him to turn. It would be no better than he deserved. The logical part of her knew that she couldn’t though. She didn’t want her vengeance to lead someone else to their fate. So she leant down with the dagger and plunged it through his eye socket. She pulled it free and wiped it off on his pant leg. She tucked it back into her boot. She looked him over one last time, feeling a hint of satisfaction that he had gone out like this. Undignified with his pants undone and his pathetic penis hanging out. 

She stepped over him, grabbing the gun and the machete. She was grateful to have some weapons for the time being but she needed to get her own back. She had to go back to where John had grabbed her and find her bow and knife. Thankfully, he hadn’t had the sense to blindfold her so she was certain she could find her way easily. She situated the pack over her shoulders and slipped the gun into place in the back of her pants. She grabbed the lantern, holding the machete in her other hand. 

She exited the tent and looked around. Still no sign of walkers or any of John’s group. She moved in the direction of one of the other tents. She paused at the entrance as a drop of moisture hit her head. She looked skyward and another drop splashed onto her cheek. She sighed in frustration. Here comes the rain, she thought dejectedly. 

Getting back was not going to be as easy as she had hoped. It wasn’t safe to go searching in the rain at night. She would have to wait it out here until it stopped or until morning. She didn’t like that. She wanted to get away from this place. Every minute longer she stayed, the likelier the chance of John’s group returning was. But she wasn’t stupid. The rain made things less visible and more slippery. If she were to run into a herd she wouldn’t be able to fight as well as she normally could. So, even though it was risky, she would stick around and take shelter. 

\---

Daryl had waited until Carol had slipped away to her own tent before grabbing his bow. He returned to where he had left his bike and the backpack. The mound of leaves and debris still sat, seemingly untouched. On second thought, it seemed to be covered more than how he had left it. 

He frowned and knelt down, uncovering the bike and the device. His frown deepened as he spotted another pack practically on top of his. He reached out and grabbed it. He   
examined it closely. It looked almost identical to his. There was a keypad on the strap and the same Russian language all over it. But it didn’t make sense. How could there suddenly be two of them? 

He looked around the area. It was too dark for him to check for any tracks. He considered the pack again. Had Eugene come back here too? That was the only logical explanation he could think of. But why would he? He had no reason to come back here. Unless something had happened back home, Daryl realised. If something had happened at the community, Eugene may have thought it necessary to try to get Daryl back home. 

Daryl chewed his lip. Either way, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. It was too dark to track and if Eugene was here, he would have no way of finding him. With a sigh, Daryl brought his bike upright. He checked the saddlebags but nothing seemed to be missing or disturbed. He shoved both backpacks in one of the bike’s bags. It was easily done seeing as how they were both empty. 

He started walking his bike back to camp. He kept his eyes peeled for walkers and, on the off chance, Eugene. He was thankful for his honed senses in the dark from years of hunting. He didn’t have a flashlight and if he wasn’t paying attention as well as he was, it would be easy for someone or something to sneak upon him. 

He didn’t encounter anything though. It was a smooth path back to the little campsite. He parked the bike near his tent and pulled open the saddlebag. He grabbed both of the packs out. He shouldered one and used the other to shove all of his supplies in. As he closed the pack, he felt a drop of water hit his forearm. 

He hurriedly entered the tent, not wanting to find out how the rain affected the time machines. Those panels were definitely not waterproof. He deposited both packs in the corner. Then, he picked up the, now cold, bowl of stew that Carol had brought him and sat down on his bedroll. He ate quickly, only now realising how hungry he was. As he ate, he thought back to the conversation he had shared with her. 

It still baffled him that she had been able to just accept that he had come from the future. He wondered if maybe she could sense that he was here to help her. That was probably a stupid thought, but how else could she have known she could trust him? It certainly couldn’t be his winning personality, he thought with a snort. 

She was so different. Even with the weight of her tyrant husband and abuse hanging over her. She was lighter and unburdened than the woman he knew now. As much as he loved seeing her like that, he knew he needed to toughen her up. She needed to learn to protect herself and learn how to survive. The sooner the better. She had only survived most of the early stuff by luck alone or relying on others to protect her. That shit couldn’t fly. He needed to know if she got into a scrap, she could handle herself. It was the only way he would be able to sleep at night. 

Sophia too. The girl was far too sweet. There was nothing wrong with that, but in this world, that attitude could get you killed. As much as he wished she could have the childhood she deserved, it just wasn’t viable. At least not until they got somewhere safe. He needed to get her used to weapons and maybe even teach her how to hunt. That way, if he did fail in preventing her from going missing, she would have a fighting chance. 

He finished his dinner, hearing the rain falling in earnest now. It wasn’t heavy but it was loud enough to send a chill through his body. He snorted as something occurred to him. His past self had been on a hunt. Poor bastard. 

He could vaguely recall it now though the memory was fuzzy. He remembers stopping to camp for the night and being treated to this downpour. He remembers cursing up a storm in response as he had been tracking a deer. The rain had washed away the trail and Daryl had been forced to start from scratch. He had managed to find the deer eventually. Though when he went to retrieve it, he had found it covered in walker bites with a headless walker nearby and a group of scared-looking people. 

That pulled Daryl up short. That was the day Rick had shown up in camp for the first time. He remembers returning from his hunt, dealing with the walker then heading off, looking for Merle. Then Rick and Shane had approached him to tell him the news. He cringed as he recalls tossing his squirrels at Rick, though he supposed it was understandable at the time. 

The point was, he finally had a vague idea of when he had arrived. If he was right, it would be either tomorrow or the next day that the group returned from Atlanta and his past self would show up. That was worrying, Daryl realised. As soon as his past self showed up, his cover would be blown. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t. 

Daryl had always suspected that he might have other siblings out there. His dad had been a cheating bastard, always running off with some waitress for weeks at a time. It wouldn’t be a stretch for him to present himself as a long lost half brother. But then, his past self wouldn’t take kindly to his presence. He would be disgusted and keep as far away from him as possible. That wasn’t exactly ideal. 

There was the other option. Tell his past self the truth. He didn’t think that would go down as well as it had with Carol. He knew all too well how volatile he had been around this time. He’d be more likely to put a bolt in Daryl’s head. But if he could figure out a way to convince him, he might end up with two strong allies. 

All this speculating was giving him a headache. While he felt more rejuvenated from the time travel jet lag, he still felt like he needed to sleep. Thinking about all this stuff was hindering more than helping. He wasn’t going to be able to plan anything until his head was clear. He climbed into the sleeping bag, covering himself from the night’s chill. He laid down and closed his eyes, hoping he would be able to figure out what to do tomorrow. 

\---

Carol had combed through each of the tents carefully, coming up with a fair haul of supplies. She had loaded them into her scavenged pack eagerly. She didn’t find any other weapons though. John’s group must have taken them. Still, she had found some medical supplies like bandages and ointment. That stuff was always useful. 

She opted to stay in the tent across from John’s for the night. She lay in the dark with the machete in her hand. The gun was by her head within easy reach. The rain had started falling with purpose now. The sound was soothing but she didn’t let herself drift off. She didn’t feel safe enough to fall asleep with no one on watch. She would be tired tomorrow but she had gone much longer without sleep. 

For the first time since she had arrived, she allowed herself to consider the circumstances she found herself in. Sophia was alive. She had avoided letting herself think about that, knowing she had more pressing matters to deal with. But, for now, at least, she was safe and there was nothing that needed doing. 

Even when she had pressed that button to send her back, she hadn’t considered Sophia at all. She had just been so worried about Daryl that it hadn’t registered. Now, her chest constricted at the thought. She would see her daughter again. It had been so long that Carol couldn’t really remember what she even looked like. All she could recall was her honey blonde hair and her soulful brown eyes. Everything else was a blur. She blinked at the tears that welled in her eyes. 

So many times, she had lamented the lack of photographs in this world. At least then, she would have had something to carry with her, to not let the memory fade. But all she’d had was a little pink hair tie and even that had been lost in the prison once it fell. 

It occurred to her suddenly that this could be a chance. She could do better this time. Protect Sophia and make it so she never goes missing in those woods. She was strong enough to do it. She was nothing like that weak woman who had hidden under a car, sobbing, while her daughter was chased by the dead. 

Was that why Daryl had come back here? To try to save all of the people they had lost? It wasn’t farfetched. He would be able to save Merle, save Rick, Glenn. All of them. Everyone they had lost, they now had a chance to save. But he had just left without telling her. Without even saying goodbye. Eugene had made it clear that it was probably impossible that they could come back. Was it that easy for him to just leave her behind? 

The questions continued to spiral in her mind as she stared up at the roof of the tent. She couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed by his actions. He had been saying things to her for a while now. Trying to make it clear to her that he was on her side and that he wasn’t going anywhere. Had all that been a lie? A lie to try and stop her from getting herself and others killed? 

She knew Daryl was selfless to a fault. He would always choose what was best for everyone else over himself. Maybe the sacrifice was worth it to him. She had made it clear that she was nothing like the friend he had known. She shook her head. It wouldn’t have been that hard to leave her behind. He probably had been relieved to be done with her bullshit. 

Her tears started anew at the thought and she ended up crying like that for a while. The sound of the falling rain was loud enough to cover her choking sobs, thankfully.


	12. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys. What you've all been waiting for. Future Daryl and Carol come face to face once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there,   
> Here is the long awaited reunion of future Daryl and Carol. Honestly, I prefer the original reunion from my first version of this story but it didn't work with the changes I've made with this one. I hope you'll still like this though.

Daryl sat up with a gasp. His breath came out heavy, and his chest was burning. He closed his eyes and flopped back against the floor of the tent with a groan. Damn nightmares! 

The dream had already faded, leaving behind only the fear and horror. He couldn’t even remember what it had been about. He had a pretty good idea though. All of the nightmares he’d had in recent times were about what happened in that cave. It wasn’t hard to realise that was what had woken him this time. 

The thing was, he had thought that saving her would rid him of those nightmares for good. He hadn’t had one since he had succeeded in his mission and had slept peacefully every night. Apparently, he was still being haunted subconsciously by what happened. 

Daryl tried taking slow, deep breaths. It was something the book he had picked up in Atlanta encouraged. It was helpful for PTSD apparently, and they seemed to be onto something. It didn’t fix everything, but it did help get him to a point where his mind could calm down and think rationally. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. God, could he never get any peace? He sighed and wiped at the sweat on his brow. 

The sun was beaming in through the material of the tent, letting him know he had at least slept through the night. He pulled himself from the sleeping bag with a groan. His limbs protested the action immensely. He was getting old, he grumbled to himself. If walkers didn’t take him out, it’d probably be arthritis or something like that. 

He went hunting into the full pack and found some food to serve as breakfast. He knew that food was offered up freely at the main camp, but he wasn’t keen on going there yet. He knew it was only going to overwhelm him all over again. He needed a moment of respite before he had to start making plans on how to save all these people. 

He ate quietly and slowly. It wasn’t a particularly enjoyable breakfast: just some stale bread from the bakery in Alexandria. He hadn’t wanted to take much food with him when the people back home needed it. He washed it down with a water bottle he had packed. He glanced around the tent, letting his gaze linger on things now and then. There wasn’t much for him to look at that brought any kind of memories though. Everything in the tent was practical, for survival only. There were no real personal effects other than his and Merle’s changes of clothes. 

As much as he wanted to avoid it, he couldn’t help the questions that rushed in his head. Had anyone noticed he was gone yet? Was time passing the same as it was here? Did the future even exist anymore now that he was changing things? 

Damn, he thought to himself with a shake of his head. That was not the kind of shit to be thinking about after just waking up. He would never know the answers anyway. He could only hope that what he was doing now didn’t affect anything negatively. If he let himself worry too much over it, he would start worrying about shit like accidentally shooting the wrong squirrel or something. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what Carol was thinking. 

She had watched him disappear right before her eyes. There was no way she would be able to figure out what had happened to him, not unless she interrogated Eugene. He snorted. That was probably exactly what she had done. She had already been suspicious of his visits to the man, so he wouldn’t put it past her to demand answers. At least that would let her know he was okay. She wouldn’t be left worrying or thinking she was going crazy. The sound of footsteps reached his ears, halting his musings. They were approaching his tent with purpose. His eyes narrowed. 

If it were someone from the group, surely they would know to announce their presence. Carol hadn’t last night, but she’d seen his reaction. She was smart enough to let him know it was her after he’d greeted her with a knife. If it were Shane, the man would have called out rather than attempt to enter the tent. They were the only two he could reason to be visiting him. 

Unless it was Eugene, the man was smart but also a dumbass and Daryl wouldn’t put it past him to not consider that it might not be a good idea to sneak up on him. Either way, he wasn’t going to be left unprepared. He grabbed his bow, prepared a bolt and got to his feet. He waited just inside the entrance of the tent. The flap pushed aside, and he lined the intruder up. 

\---

Carol had dozed a little during the night, never deeply enough to drop off altogether though. Sleeping on the run had conditioned her too much for that. Even when there was someone on watch, it had been hard for her to sleep out in the open. Now it was a bright new day. 

She hadn’t found any food in the camp, unfortunately. Her stomach growled at her in dismay, but she ignored it. She had more important things to worry about like getting the hell out of here and finding her weapons. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. The rain would have washed away the trail she and John had made on the way here. She was going to have to make some educated guesses and hope she came across things that seemed familiar to guide her back. 

Part of her also wanted to go looking for John’s group. To make sure they were already taken care of or take care of them herself if they weren’t. She didn’t trust knowing a group was out there with people who were equal to or worse than John. They hadn’t encountered them the first time but what if she had already changed things? What if her appearance here made it so the group did find the quarry?

It was a significant risk to take. But then, Carol was only one person. She could handle herself; she knew that. She had taken on bigger groups alone. That was before though. That was when she had trusted herself and her abilities. These days, she had little faith in herself, and that was likely to get her killed before she did any good. 

If she made it back to camp and found Daryl, she could get him to help her. The two of them worked well together, and they would be able to work out a plan to take care of these people. She nodded to herself silently. That was what she would do, she decided. Find camp, get Daryl, then take care of this problem. 

Carol gathered her stuff, settling the pack on her shoulders, hooking the machete through her belt and tucking the gun in the back of her pants. She walked back the way she had been led into the camp, wincing a little as she did. 

She had noticed during the night that the dagger had nicked the back of her thigh. Not deeply, but enough that the movement of her leg made the wound twinge. She didn’t think she would need stitches though. It was likely just a cut. 

She grumbled to herself as she looked down at the ground. The rain had indeed washed all traces of a path away. Or maybe there was still a trail, but she wasn’t skilled enough to pick it up. Daryl would have if he were there. He was the best tracker out of all the communities. At Michonne’s urging, he had given lessons to a select few who had wanted to learn, but they would never come close to his skill level. 

She had asked him to teach her on the road after they lost the farm. She had felt ill at ease with her place in the group, sick of being relegated to cooking and cleaning. Not that she had been unhappy with doing the tasks, it had just felt like she hadn’t been contributing much in the grand scheme of things. 

He hadn’t exactly been the most patient of teachers. She had been able to see that her slowness in picking anything up had annoyed him a little, but he hadn’t yelled at her at least. He had just corrected her and repeated his instructions. 

After a while, she got better at it, and he had allowed her to join him on his hunts now and then. The first few times she had irritated him again with her less than quiet footsteps. Had spat at her that she was scaring off all the game. She had taken the words, knowing it was just frustration from being out in the elements with no permanent home, not real anger at her. She had asked him to show her how to make her steps quieter. After she had mastered the skill, the hunts were more relaxed. Quiet but not uncomfortably so. She smiled to herself as she remembered the time she had taken down her first deer. Well, technically, they had taken it down together. 

They had been about to head back before they had spotted it, grazing across the way. Daryl had raised a finger to his lips and raised his bow. She had waited for him to take the shot. Instead, he had glanced at her with a calculating look. A beat later, he had passed her the bow. She had nearly dropped it, unused to the weight of it. She didn’t though because Daryl kept his hands on it, holding it up for her. 

He had guided her hand to the trigger mechanism and manoeuvred the bow himself to line up the shot. When he gave her a nod, she let the bolt fly and it sunk into the eye of the deer, killing it instantly. She had let out a gasp, but a moment later, she had turned to him with a grin. He didn’t return her smile, but there had been a look, almost like pride in his eyes. 

They had returned to the others with the deer in tow, receiving quiet praise from everyone. Daryl had shaken all of it off, telling them that she had been the one to do it. Everyone had looked at her with awe, and she was so happy from the praise that she didn’t even try to correct him. The group had complimented her and given her pats on the shoulder in thanks. All the while, Daryl had watched from nearby with his arms crossed and a little smile on his lips. Almost too small to be noticeable but she saw it. 

She stepped over a fallen tree branch after narrowly avoiding tripping on it. Things were so different now. She had relied so much on Daryl in those months after the farm. She had been so grief-stricken that, at times, she had wondered if it would be better to opt-out as Jackie did. Daryl had probably seen that because he had become relentless. 

He had taught her to shoot, to kill walkers with knives and blunt objects, he had even taught her some hand to hand combat. But most of all, he had taught to have faith in herself and to trust herself more than she did. By the time they reached the prison, she had been mostly self-sufficient. All thoughts of taking her own life were forgotten. 

She would never be able to repay him for making her strong. She had certainly done a poor job of it lately. But they had a second chance now. Alpha was gone. Well, she was out there somewhere, but right now, she was hardly a blip on their radar. Her need for revenge was still there. It would probably never go away, but there was no outlet for it now. She had no choice BUT to give it up. That was her goal, she decided. Keep Sophia safe and make things right with Daryl. Neither tasks would be easy, she knew. 

Sophia was so gentle and fearful. It was her own mistakes that had made her so, she knew. Carol had shown Sophia over and over that being quiet and never fighting back was the way to survive. She needed to reverse that and quick. There was no way she was losing her a second time. 

Reconciling with Daryl wasn’t going to be a picnic either. To do so would mean picking open the scabs of wounds from long ago. But perhaps it would be easier now. None of the awful things she had been through had happened yet. At least not in this world. She had a chance to change all of it. And if she told him, he would be able to help her with it.   
With strengthened resolve, she continued to stalk through the woods, hoping she was moving in the right direction. It was hard to tell. Everything looked pretty much the same, just endless trees and bushes. But then, she spotted a forked tree with an ‘X’ carved into it. She had seen it on their way to the camp yesterday and figured it was a marker for the group to find the camp. Thank god, she thought to herself. She was heading the right way. 

She walked for a long time, the material of her pants irritating the cut on her thigh with every step she took. She brought her hand behind her to feel the spot. She flinched at the spark of pain. The place on the material of her pants was stiff and crusty too. She hadn’t even noticed that she had bled. It was a more significant bloodstain than she would have expected too. Perhaps the cut had been more serious than she had thought. She sighed at the knowledge. The last thing she needed right now was another injury. It had been worth it though. 

She blew out a breath in relief as she spotted her discarded weapons. They lie on the forest floor, seemingly untouched from when she had dropped them. She replaced her knife in its sheath and picked up her bow and arrows. As soon as she had them on her person again, she felt a wave of calm wash over her. It felt like she was whole again to have them returned to her. 

She had to manoeuvre a little to get her bow and quiver situated on her shoulders with the pack in place too, but she managed it. She moved back the way she had come, intent on finding Daryl’s bike as her marker. Once she found it, she would be able to figure out which way to go next. 

She paused in a little clearing and frowned. Her eyes combed the place and settled on a disturbed patch of ground. She was sure that was where she had ditched the pack near Daryl’s bike. The forest debris had been pushed aside, and that was the only sign that anything had ever rested there. She hoped it had been Daryl who had taken everything. She didn’t want to consider what would happen if someone else got their hands on those backpacks. 

Well, she had her marker now, but where to from here? There still seemed to be no sign of anything here. She hadn’t even seen any walkers. She figured she would just comb the area and use this as a base spot in case she didn’t find anything. 

She removed her bow from her shoulder and knocked an arrow. She stalked forward on sure feet. Even though she knew the rain had eliminated any tracks, she found herself studying the ground. It was a habit when out in the woods. She looked up periodically, checking the area for any threats. As she moved further, she was able to spot something promising up ahead. 

Through the trees, she could see flashes of colour: Oranges, blues and tans. She walked closer, feeling hope awaken in her once more. She hoped she was right. If she was, the colours she could see would be those of various tents. 

As she neared, the shapes of the tents became apparent to her. She relaxed a little. She was close to the camp. She hadn’t had any idea of where she had been in regards to the quarry, but it was quickly becoming evident that she was near the smaller outer camp, where her own tent had been. That was probably better. It wouldn’t have been good to just burst into the main camp unannounced. 

She crept through the trees that marked the edge of the camp. So far, she couldn’t see any people. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on her old tent. The sight of it rankled her. Memories came back unbidden. That tent had been a fortress of horror for her. There had been no escape from Ed and his abuse when she had been locked in there. 

She forced her eyes away, and they settled quickly on something else of interest: Daryl’s bike. It was parked out the front of a large, shabbier looking tent. She remembers how afraid she had been at the knowledge that the two rough men had been only a few tents away from her. She snorted at the memory. Daryl had been nothing to be concerned about. Merle, maybe a little, but he had been nothing like Ed, at least. 

She bit her lip and approached the tent carefully. She shouldered her bow again, returning the arrow to the quiver. She stepped closer, keeping her steps quiet before she paused. She probably shouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a good idea to sneak up on Daryl. That was a sure way of getting a bolt through the eye. So, as she moved onwards, she purposely made noise with her boots, giving him a warning if he was inside. She would have called out to him, but she was wary of making noise and alerting anyone else in the camp.   
Carol paused at the entrance to the tent before reaching her hand out slowly. She pushed the material aside and took a step forward. Carol stopped short as she came face to face with a dark, curved object she recognised instantly. She blinked as her eyes settled on the crossbow properly. She followed down the length of it to the other side, seeing a pair of glaring blue eyes. Her heart jumped, not in fear, but elation. He was here. The glare on his face fell away quickly. A look of pure disbelief replaced it. He lowered the bow with his mouth gaping a little. 

“Carol?” he asked as if she could be anyone else. 

“Daryl,” she breathed, a smile forming on her lips. She was so relieved to see him. It was the only thing that had been driving her for the last two days—the prospect of seeing him again. 

He dropped the bow entirely and closed the small distance between them. He pulled her towards him, and she accepted the hug readily. She buried her head in his neck and breathed him in: Perfect woodsy Daryl smell. She sighed as the scent helped to cleanse some of the recent trauma from her. She winced a little as his chest pressed against hers. Her breasts were still aching from the rough treatment they had received the night before. She hid the reaction against his shirt, not wanting him to worry. 

“How are you here right now?” Daryl asked as he pulled away. His hands held her shoulders in a gentle grip, and she smiled a little. 

“Eugene,” she replied. “After you disappeared, I made him tell me everything. Then, I made him send back too.” 

Daryl absorbed her words with a furrow in his brow. 

“He had two of those,” he gritted his teeth. “Time machines,” he finished with apparent reluctance. 

Carol laughed at his indignant tone. She understood his reluctance to say it. It sounded stupid even to her, but what else could they call it? It was a perfectly apt description of what the things were.

“He did,” she confirmed. “He said the one he gave me was a prototype. Wasn’t even sure it would work. He hadn’t got to test as much as the other one.” 

Daryl’s eyes squinted, his mood changing abruptly. 

“You mean you did this not knowing if it would work?” he questioned with a bite to his words. “What would have happened if you got sent to the wrong place?” 

She knew not to take stock in his anger. She knew him well enough to understand his emotions by now. This was not anger; it was fear. It was a feeling she knew he didn’t know how to express, so it usually manifested itself in this way. 

She reached out and put her hand on his forearm where the sleeve of his shirt was pushed up. His skin was warm under her palm, and though she knew to expect it, he didn’t flinch away. He watched her still with a hint of panic in his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m here,” she reminded him in a soft tone, trying to calm him. “It worked.” 

Daryl glanced at her hand on his arm before deflating. He nodded, accepting her words. She pulled her hand away, missing the feel of his skin immediately. She watched him chew at his lip. 

“He tell you we probably can’t get back?” 

“He did,” she confirmed. 

Daryl seemed to scrutinise her now and squinted a little. 

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked, sounding unconvinced. 

Carol sighed. Didn’t he get it? There was nothing left for her in Alexandria. Or anywhere for that matter. He was all she had, and even that had seemed uncertain lately. Of course, she hadn’t hesitated in following him regardless of the consequences. 

“I am,” she told him confidently. “Daryl, I don’t know if you realise this, but I don’t have a lot left in my life. The only thing I had left was you. So, yes, I’m okay with being stuck here if it means I’m stuck with you,” she told him passionately. 

Daryl stared at her for a while. A whole range of emotions passed over his face too quickly for her to analyse. Eventually, he nodded. His eyes left her face, and he looked her up and down. 

“Jesus!” he cursed. “The hell happened to you?” 

Carol sighed, knowing she would no doubt look worse for wear. John hadn’t exactly been gentle with her. At least her bloody chest and stomach were covered, though there was no hiding the large bloodstain on her shirt. It would be pretty obvious that she had been in a fight. 

“Ran into some trouble not long after I got here,” she started to explain. “A man grabbed me and disarmed me. Took me back to his camp. That’s why it took me so long to get here. I had to bide my time and wait for a moment to escape.” 

Daryl looked her over again carefully. While he seemed to study her bloody shirt intently, she noticed how his eyes kept settling on her neck. She must have bruises there from John’s attention. She wondered if he would realise where they had come from? She knew Daryl was quite naïve in some areas of life, and bedroom matters seemed to be one of   
them. 

“You alright?” he asked after a while. 

Carol nodded. 

“I’m alright,” she confirmed. “This isn’t my blood,” she told him with a meaningful look as she gestured to her shirt. 

Daryl nodded in understanding. As expected, there was no judgement from him for killing a man. Perhaps that would be different if he knew exactly how she had done it. What   
she had done was cold and heartless. Seducing a man and then slitting his throat. Would he understand that it had been necessary? 

Carol realised that she was still standing at the entrance of the tent. Probably not a good idea when anyone could come walking by. She stepped inside properly, letting the flap   
fall behind her. Daryl moved out of her way. 

She looked around the interior of the tent curiously. She had never gotten the chance to come in here the first time. It was very basic, with two bedrolls in the middle. She could see various items and tools related to hunting, which was not surprising at all. 

One side of the tent was noticeably tidier than the other, she noted. It didn’t take much for Carol to guess which side belonged to who. Daryl had always been surprisingly neat with his space. Always liked things to be structured, so he knew where everything was. 

Carol spotted a crate in the corner and moved to it, taking a seat. She winced as the cut on her thigh was pressed on. It was very high up, only a few inches away from her butt cheek. Yeah, it was definitely more substantial than the ‘cut’ she had thought it to be.

“You okay?” Daryl asked, not missing her reaction because, of course, he didn’t. He was a very observant man, sometimes too observant for comfort. 

“I’m okay,” she told him. “Just cut myself.” 

She knew she needed to tend to it. It wouldn’t do for it to get infected. That could be a death sentence in this world. It wasn’t going to be easy since it was in such an awkward spot. She would probably need help, she thought with a groan at how awkward that would be. Because the only one she could ask for help was Daryl. 

“Let me see,” Daryl said barely a moment later as if reading her mind. 

Carol glanced at him and saw that he looked concerned and eager to help. She sighed. He probably wouldn’t be if he knew where her wound was. She figured she should warn him at least. Give him an out. She could probably work out a way to deal with it herself. She had dealt with plenty of other awkwardly placed injuries in the past. 

“It’s… It’s not exactly in the most…” Carol tried, knowing her face must be red. 

Daryl sat, watching her curiously. She huffed, giving up trying to be delicate about it. 

“It’s near my ass,” she finally admitted shamefully. 

Daryl blinked and stared at her for a long moment. But then, he snorted. The only sign that her admittance had embarrassed him in any way was the fact that his cheeks had warmed. She glared at him, though she didn’t blame him for being amused. 

“Sorry, not laughing at you. Just didn’t expect it,” Daryl said with a shake of his head. “You need help with it?” 

Carol sighed again in frustration. She wished she didn’t, but she knew she needed his help. She was a grown woman; she thought to herself in annoyance. She could get over her embarrassment to let him see to her wound, and she could wallow in her mortification later. She knew Daryl probably would be. 

“Yeah,” she told him reluctantly. 

Daryl nodded. 

“Brought some medical stuff with me,” he commented as he got to his feet. 

She watched him approach one of the panelled backpacks and rifled through it. He returned to her side with an armful of supplies. He set them down on the ground and took a   
seat on the crate she had vacated. 

They both stared at each other for a while. The silence was deafening. Neither of them seemed to know how to progress from here. Carol let out a breath, knowing she needed just to rip off the proverbial bandaid. She got to her feet and brought her hands to her pants. She watched Daryl avert his eyes as soon as he realised what she was doing. It brought a smile to her lips despite her embarrassment. He was such a sweetheart. 

She removed the gun from her waistband, setting it on the floor gently. Then, she pulled the machete free from her belt. She finally got her pants undone and lowered them, so they rested low enough on her thighs to reveal the spot where the dagger had cut her. At least she had managed to keep her underwear, she thought with relief. 

Daryl still had his head turned away from her. His hands were toying with a loose thread on his ratty pants, and she knew the action was due to his nerves. She cleared her throat, knowing there was no avoiding it. Instead of looking at her body, his eyes locked on her face. She sighed at his chivalry. 

“Daryl, you’re going to have to look to do any good in patching me up,” she pointed out, putting a bit of a tease in her words. Hoping it would dissolve some of the tension.   
He blushed but nodded. He brought his hand up to his mouth and started chewing on his cuticle, something Carol hadn’t seen him do in a long time. He must be more nervous than she thought she realised with dismay. 

“I’m sorry,” she told him. She hated that she was making him this uncomfortable. “Look, I can probably figure something out. It’s not that serious anyway,” she added, trying to   
give him an out again. 

Daryl shook his head immediately, dropping his hand. He huffed and a determined look took hold of him. 

“Don’t gotta, apologise. You need help, and I’m gonna help you, alright?” 

Carol swallowed but nodded. She turned her back on him to let him see her injury.

“Alright. It’s on the left. Just under… Under…” she blushed, not willing to say it again. “Oh, you know,” she muttered. 

She waited and soon she heard him let out a little hiss. 

“Damn, how’d you manage to do that?” he asked. “Ain’t a cut, it’s a graze.” 

That made sense. 

“My dagger,” she explained. “Had to hide it somewhere, so I hid it under my thigh.” 

Daryl didn’t reply any further or ask her why she couldn’t just hide it in her sleeve or something. She didn’t know how she would have answered if he had asked. She wasn’t   
exactly ready to reveal the details of what had happened with John. 

Carol heard Daryl moving around behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him wetting a cloth with water from a bottle. He recapped it and moved his hands towards   
her, but he stopped short of actually touching her. His eyes darted to hers. 

“Is it alright if I…?” he asked, trailing off before completing the question. 

She nodded. It seemed ridiculous that he asked at all. Touching her was the only way he could help after all. But he wanted her permission to touch her, so she granted it. He blew out a breath and brought the cloth to the wound. She jumped a little at the twinge of pain and the coldness of the fabric. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

She shook her head.

“It’s okay.” 

He wiped away the dried blood carefully before she heard the sound of a packet opening. She felt something soft and wet brushing over her skin, making her wound sting. A   
disinfectant pad, she figured. His touch as he cleaned the area was perfectly gentle, but she couldn’t help flinching now and then. Every time she did, Daryl never failed to   
apologise. She watched over her shoulder as he pulled the backing off an adhesive bandage before pressing it to her skin to cover the wound.

“There,” he said as he removed his hands from her. “How’s that?” he asked. 

Carol nodded as she fought her body’s instinct to follow his hands. She missed the sensation of them against her: So warm and rough. She cursed herself inwardly. Now was not   
the time for her stupid fantasies. 

“It’s good. Thanks.” 

She didn’t hesitate to pull her pants back up. When she was covered again, she turned to face him. He had just finished putting the items he had used aside. His face was still flaming, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes directly. 

“Well, this was a nice reunion,” she commented, trying to break the awkward tension. 

Daryl scoffed at her, but then he laughed, making her join in. They both laughed for a while at the ridiculousness of the situation. When they quietened again, Daryl eyed her closely, and she was relieved to see that the moment of levity had chased away most of the embarrassment. 

“You hurt anywhere else?” 

Carol shook her head. 

“Couple of bruises but I’ll be fine,” she told him. She wasn’t about to tell him that her breasts were aching. One awkward moment was enough for one day. “What’s been   
happening here?” she asked to change the subject. 

Daryl watched her for a few moments before speaking. He was probably wondering if she were hiding another more serious injury. She didn’t blame him for his scepticism. She had kept a lot of things from him. 

“Not much. Saw Shane as soon as I got here. Couldn’t tell him the truth so I made up a story. Told him my name was Norman. That Merle and the other Daryl were my brothers. Told him that’s why I was there. That I was looking for them,” he explained. 

Carol raised a brow. She was a little surprised that Daryl had lied; it wasn’t something he tended to do. She was also a little confused about his name choice, but she figured it had something to do with the tattoo on his chest. She didn’t know who it commemorated but knew they must have been special to earn a place over his heart. 

“Did he believe you?” she asked worriedly. Shane was a hot-head, and it wouldn’t be a good idea to get on the man’s bad side. 

Daryl hummed in confirmation. 

“He did. Enough to let me into camp at least,” he explained. He eyed her with a strange look. It was like he was unsure if he should say something. 

“What?” she prompted. 

He chewed his lip before speaking. 

“Reason he trusts me is ‘cause you—The other you, I mean—Vouched for me. Made up some story about us knowin’ each other.”

Carol frowned. She had suspected that he had probably talked to her past self, but this was an interesting development. Why would she lie for a man she didn’t even know? 

“Why would she lie for you?” she asked aloud. 

“ ‘Cause I helped her, I guess,” Daryl replied with a shrug. It looked as if he didn’t fully understand either. 

“How did you help her?” 

Daryl took to fiddling with a loose thread on his ridiculously worn pants again. She wished he would let her burn them. She had certainly been tempted to do it without his knowledge a fair few times. At this point, she figured he kept them mainly BECAUSE she had been so insistent about it. 

“When I got here, Ed was beating on y—her,” he revealed. She caught his near slip up but understood. It must be hard to separate the two. “Heard it as soon as I got to camp.” 

The memories pulled themselves to the surface making Carol swallow heavily. Ed was something she consciously tried to forget, but he never seemed to stay gone for long. She   
shivered as she realised for the first time that he was alive. He was here in this camp. She pushed the thoughts away for now to focus on what Daryl was saying. 

“I stopped him. Was gonna kill him, but you—I mean, she stopped me.” 

Carol blinked and felt tears pricking behind her eyes. He had stepped in when Ed had been hurting her. So many times she’d wished for someone to step in. She would never have asked for help, never believed she deserved it. But she had still hoped. 

“Daryl…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. She had forgotten the point of the conversation entirely now. 

Daryl eyed her. She could see the concern in his eyes. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” she confirmed, trying to ward off the tears she was fighting. They would just make him worry more. “I just… Thank you. I know it wasn’t me. Not really. But thank you for doing that.” 

Daryl nodded as understanding appeared in his eyes. 

“ ‘Course,” he said as if it was a given. “Didn’t plan it or nothin’. Just lost it when I realised what was happening.” 

She knew all too well that insisting he accept her gratitude would get her nowhere. So she just inclined her head. She found another crate and took a seat. She tapped her hands lightly against the smooth surface of her makeshift chair. 

“Do you know when we are?” she asked before frowning. “That sounded a lot weirder than I meant it to.” 

Daryl snorted. 

“I get what you mean,” he replied before seeming to consider her question properly. “I got a vague idea. Pretty sure it’ll be a day or two ‘til Rick shows up. That means the other me will show up too.” 

She hummed in acknowledgement. She remembered that day. Rick had returned with the group that had gone into Atlanta. When he had arrived, she had witnessed the sweet reunion between him and Carl and Lori. Then, not even five minutes later, Daryl had arrived and gotten into a fight with Rick and Shane over Merle. She remembers how afraid she   
had been over the altercation. How afraid of Daryl she had been. It seemed ridiculous now that she knew him. 

“Do you know what you’re going to do about that?” she asked in reference to his past self turning up. She couldn’t even imagine how that was going to go down. 

Daryl squinted a little. He always did when he was considering something deeply. 

“Nah,” he replied gruffly. “Guess I’ll just think of something when the time comes.”

Carol nodded. It wasn’t easy to plan for this stuff. They were both pretty much walking blindly here. 

“If I can, I’ll try to get him on my side,” Daryl added thoughtfully. He huffed, looking half-amused. “Think I got my work cut out for me.” 

She understood what he meant. The man he had been here at the quarry hadn’t exactly been a team player. He had made it easy for people to believe he was exactly like his brother. Had never let anyone close enough to realise that underneath it all, he was wildly different. 

“You weren’t that bad,” she tried reassuring him. It wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t been that bad; he’d mostly been quiet honestly. It had just been his constant glaring that had put people off as well as his association to Merle. 

Daryl scoffed and gave her a dubious look. 

“I was more like a feral dog than a person.” 

She frowned at his assessment of himself. 

“That’s not true,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’ll admit you were a little… Surly. But you were still the same Daryl underneath it all. You just needed a push to let him out.” 

Daryl seemed to think over her words. Soon, his lips lifted a little. 

“Thanks for the push,” he commented shyly. 

She smiled at him. 

“I can’t take all the credit, but you’re welcome.” 

They continued to smile at each for a while, reminiscing about older days. She sobered quickly, though. She had been trying to avoid the subject, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to know. 

“Have you… Have you seen her?” Carol asked hesitantly. She couldn’t bring herself to speak the name that haunted her. 

“I have,” Daryl replied, clearly needing no explanation to know whom she meant. “Saw her in camp the other day. She’s good.” 

Carol blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It wasn’t like she had expected him to tell her anything different. It wasn’t until later that the worst came for Sophia. Still, part of her had worried.

“I don’t even… I can’t believe I have the chance to see her again,” she said, worrying her lip. “I spent so long avoiding thinking about her.” 

Daryl hummed with a thoughtful look. 

“You never talked about her. Not once after the farm.” 

Carol was a little surprised he brought it up. He had never called her on it during that time or after. She hadn’t even realised he had noticed. But of course, he had. 

“I thought it would make it easier if I didn’t talk about it,” she explained. “I don’t think I ever really grieved her. I just poured all my energy into surviving and locked all that grief up.” 

Daryl sat quietly while she spoke. He looked engrossed in what she had to say, which encouraged her to continue. 

“I think every time I lost someone after that, it got easier to push it away. To shove it into that room with thoughts of her,” Carol went on. Her vision blurred a little, and she blinked to ward off the tears again. “Even with Henry, I couldn’t let myself grieve him the way I should.” 

She sucked in a breath. She didn’t want to cry anymore. She was sick of crying. But she knew she was losing the battle. All of her feelings were catching up to her with the topic of conversation. Not to mention the stress she had experienced the night before. 

“Hey,” Daryl said softly, bringing her attention back to him. “Ain’t no right way to grieve someone. You ain’t the only one who’s got unhealthy copin’ mechanisms. You just gotta remember that we can change things now. All of it, if we’re lucky.” 

She nodded in reply. Daryl was right. None of the kids she had lost had to die. They could save them all. They knew enough about what was to come to know how. Her mind was stilted as she remembered Lizzie, though.

As much as she hated acknowledging it, just as she had back then, the girl was a danger. She didn’t know how she could do anything differently about her. She eyed Daryl. Was it finally time? Could she confess the truth she had hidden for so long? 

“Daryl?” 

He hummed in reply. He looked ready to listen to whatever she had to say at this moment. She swallowed hard. She didn’t think anyone could be prepared for the story she had. 

“There’s… I need to tell you something,” she said hesitantly. 

“You can tell me anything,” he replied vehemently. 

She believed him too. She already knew on some level that he wouldn’t judge her for her actions. There was still that deep-seated fear within her that he would be disgusted with her; that he would be so disgusted that he would shut her out of his life for good. 

“I know. It’s just; I’ve never talked about it—Never wanted to talk about it—But I need help. I don’t know what I can do to change it when it comes time.” 

Daryl nodded in understanding.

“Alright. I’ll try to help if I can.” 

Carol sucked in a breath to try to prepare herself. 

“I… I killed Lizzie,” she admitted finally. It came out almost like a whisper. 

Silence rang out in the tent in the moments after. Daryl didn’t look disgusted with her though. He just watched her. She could almost see the questions surging in his mind. 

“She get bit?” he asked calmly. 

She shook her head. She knew that was what he had assumed happened to Lizzie and Mika when they had found each after Terminus. Too afraid of his reaction to the truth, she had let him believe that. It had been easy to take the coward’s way out. 

“No. She was healthy,” she confessed. “Not a scratch on her.” 

Daryl frowned now. He seemed to think carefully over her words, clearly trying to understand how the events had come to pass. 

“Why?” he asked after a while. 

Carol didn’t need any further clarification of the question. She knew what he meant. Why had she killed a perfectly healthy child? He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t have done such a thing if she didn’t have to. 

“Because she was dangerous,” she breathed out. Her heart felt like it was trying to beat out of her chest. “She killed her sister. She just… She just killed her. With a knife.” 

Even this many years later, it still shocked her. Never in her wildest dreams could she have expected the scene that had greeted her that day in the grove. She had known there was something wrong with Lizzie, but she had fooled herself into thinking it would resolve itself. That, eventually, the girl would figure things out. She blamed herself for how things had gone down. If she’d just paid more attention, Mika might have had a chance. 

There was a deeper frown on Daryl’s face now as he processed what she had just said. She wasn’t surprised that he had trouble understanding. He hadn’t spent as much time with Lizzie as she had. Hadn’t had the opportunity to see the sickness of her mind. 

“They have a fight or somethin’,” Daryl asked after a while. He shook his head with a huff almost immediately. “Sorry, that sounds dumb. I just… I guess I don’t get it.” 

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to get it. I’m not sure I ever really did either,” Carol reassured him. “Lizzie and Mika hadn’t fought. It was an unprovoked attack.”

Daryl listened, still with a look of confusion. 

“There was just something wrong with Lizzie’s mind. Something that, in the old world, they would have treated in special hospitals.” 

That was how she decided to word it. Daryl probably knew she meant an institution. She wasn’t stupid. Lizzie’s mental state had been a kind of schizophrenia or something. She would have needed some pretty heavy anti-psychotics to combat whatever was going on there. She had always wondered whether it was something the girl had suffered with before the world ended or if the end had brought it on. 

“Back at the prison, she had started naming the walkers. The other kids had done it too, but to them, it was just a game. For her, it was serious. She saw them as people, only different,” Carol said, trying to help him understand, at least a little. “I don’t know if you remember, but those dissected rats we found? That was her.” 

A flash of recognition took hold of Daryl’s eyes. 

“Damn,” he muttered with a shake of his head. 

She nodded in agreement. She didn’t know what Lizzie had been trying to accomplish with the rats, but she guessed it was something she would never understand. 

“That day, Tyreese and I had gone out to get water. We were only gone for twenty minutes at most,” she told him, bringing them back to the real subject. “When we got back, Mika was dead. And Lizzie, Lizzie just stood there holding that bloody knife with a smile on her face.” 

Carol let out a bitter laugh, and she saw how Daryl flinched at the sound. She was too stuck in her mind to feel bad for startling him. 

“She told us not to worry. That Mika would come back. She… She said she was about to do the same to Judith. If we hadn’t shown up when we did….” She let the statement trail off with a frown. 

If they hadn’t arrived when they had, Lizzie would have killed Judith. It was odd to think that something good had come out of the whole situation. In killing Lizzie, she had saved Judith. Did that make what she’d done justified? She didn’t know. She shook her head to will the question away. It didn’t matter anymore. 

She had caught the way Daryl had tensed at the mention of Judith’s name. It wasn’t a secret how close the two were. While she called him ‘Uncle Daryl’, he had become an almost surrogate father to Judith after Rick. The girl adored him, and the feeling was mutual. She imagined it wasn’t easy for him to hear of the girl’s life being in danger, even years later. 

“We talked about it for a while. Tried to figure out what to do,” Carol continued, to distract him from the fear that had overcome him. “We just knew she couldn’t be around people. No one would ever be safe around her. I knew Tyreese couldn’t do it. So it was down to me.” 

A sigh escaped Daryl. It wasn’t a happy sound. He already knew what she was going to tell him, she knew, but she pressed on anyway. She had to say it out loud for the first and last time. 

“I shot her in the back of the head,” she whispered. “She didn’t know what was coming; she just stood there crying. I still remember the blood…” she broke off with a gasp as a flash of the memory passed before her: the patch of blood on honey blonde hair. 

Daryl wordlessly lifted himself from his seat and approached. He crouched before her on one knee. His hand reached out and wiped at the tears she hadn’t noticed falling. His touch was gentle and reverent. 

“I’m so sorry you had to do that,” he said quietly with sadness in his eyes. “No one should have to make that choice.” 

She nodded shakily. 

“Listen to me,” Daryl continued, holding her gaze. “You did what you had to do. You said it yourself, she was dangerous. Doing what you did saved Judith. If it weren’t for you, she never would have got to grow up.” 

She nodded again, knowing his words were true but struggling to accept them. It was all things she had tried telling herself for years. 

“You’re so strong. Stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Daryl said, and she was surprised to see the awe in his eyes. “I never would have been able to do what you did. It was awful—no doubt about it—But you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. I certainly don’t.” 

Carol’s breath rushed out of her. There it was—The confirmation she had needed all along—That he didn’t think she was a monster for what she had done. She didn’t bother trying to stop her tears this time. She didn’t think she could have anyway. 

Immediately Daryl’s hand was there to wipe the moisture away again. His other hand took to rubbing soothing circles into her knee. She knew that if their positions allowed for it, he would have pulled her into his arms. She would have moved, but she felt too weak. 

“What do I do, Daryl?” she asked when she got control of herself. “It’s going to happen again. We can’t change the way she is. How am I going to save her?” 

Daryl pressed his lips together. 

“I wish I had the answers you’re wantin’,” he told her. “I don’t, though.” 

She nodded. She knew that he wouldn’t have a solution to present her. It was too complicated for anyone to just work it out on the fly. She had imagined a million different scenarios over the years; ways she could have done things differently. 

“She and her sister were from Woodbury, weren’t they?” he asked after a beat. 

Carol furrowed her brow at the unexpected question before nodding. 

“They were. Their father got them to Woodbury not long after the outbreak. They were there almost from the start.” 

Daryl nodded with a thoughtful look. She saw when it morphed into something that almost looked guilty. 

“Look, this is probably gonna sound awful, but I’ma say it anyway,” he said. He chewed his lip.“If we can stop Woodbury from falling, she don’t gotta be your problem.” 

Carol blinked in surprise. She had never considered that as an option. In every scenario she had thought of, Lizzie had always been her problem. 

“You wanna stop Woodbury from falling?” she asked, focusing on that rather than Lizzie for the moment. 

Daryl inclined his head. 

“If we deal with The Governor early, the people would be able to stay in the town. Just gotta find someone to take over leadership.” 

Carol hummed as she thought it over. It wasn’t far-fetched. If they got rid of The Governor, there wouldn’t be any reason for the people to leave the community. They could live there safely. As awful a thought it may be, part of her relished the thought that Ryan Samuels may live to be able to look after his daughters himself. She had loved Lizzie and Mika, but the thought of caring for them again filled her with dread. 

“You think I’m an asshole for thinkin’ that?” Daryl asked, breaking her from her thoughts. There was a look of deep worry in his eyes. 

She knew he didn’t mean about his plan for Woodbury. He was asking if she thought he was an asshole for trying to pawn a mentally unwell child off their hands. Maybe a small part of her did feel guilty. The larger part of her was relieved at his idea. She shook her head. 

“No. I don’t think you’re an asshole at all. And maybe that makes me an asshole, but I hope your plan works out because I can’t go through that again. I just can’t.” 

He nodded, looking satisfied with her reply. She cleared her throat awkwardly. 

“We’re doing well on this whole reunion thing, aren’t we?” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood and break the tension. 

Daryl granted her a quiet chuckle from his place still crouched in front of her. 

“Go hard or go home,” he replied with a smirk. 

She snorted. 

“Get up,” she told him, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You’re gonna do yourself an injury staying like that. You’re not exactly a spring chicken.” 

Daryl gave her a mock glare. 

“You sayin’ I’m old?” 

She snorted again. 

“You are old. We both are,” she said. She gave him an appraising look. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m older than you.” 

Daryl made a ‘pfft’ noise. He walked away and sat back on his crate to look at her across the tent. 

“How old are you then?” he asked with a challenging look. 

How had such a dark conversation morphed into this? It was like they were suddenly in the schoolyard, trying to one-up each other. 

“I was born in 1965, so that would make me about fifty-four or fifty-five,” she said thoughtfully. “Hard to tell when you don’t know what year it is, but I’m pretty confident.” 

“Fine. You win,” Daryl said with a huff. “ Was born in ’69. How old does that make me?” 

She thought about it and did the math in her head. 

“About fifty? Maybe fifty-one?” she replied with a furrowed brow then she smirked. “You’re like a baby compared to me.” 

Daryl scoffed at her. 

“You got like four years on me. Yeah, I’m a damn infant compared to you, Grandma.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Call me that again, and I’m burning those pants.” 

Daryl snorted, and his shoulders shook with laughter. 

“You ain’t getting’ near my pants. These things must be damn near lucky at this point.” 

She huffed but couldn’t help smiling. No one could pull her from her turmoil like Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Hope you liked it. Also hope you liked my depiction of the long anticipated 'Grove' talk. And of course, I couldn't resist inserting a little bit of levity. Seriously, though, what the hell is up with Daryl's pants? Can we like make a bonfire and burn them along with Carol's S9 wig?


	13. Honesty and Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Carol continue to talk in the tent and later, Daryl gets clothes for Carol but makes a startling realising that sends him into guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the delay with this one. I meant to have it up the day after Christmas but I second guessed myself whether it was ready. Not much in the way of plot here, just more Caryl talking and bonding. 
> 
> Hope you like this one.

The atmosphere in the tent was significantly lighter. It hadn't been hard for Daryl to decide they needed a moment of reprieve after the emotional conversation they’d had. He had offered Carol some food, and they ate quietly without it being awkward. 

"Why did you come back here?" Carol asked after a while. 

Part of him was disappointed that the comfortable silence had been broken, but he wouldn't begrudge her curiosity. He couldn't deny being nervous though. The reasons he had for coming back here were so wrapped up in her. It would probably be overwhelming. 

"You want to save them, right?" she continued when he didn’t answer right away. "Everyone we've lost?" 

"I do," he agreed with a dip of his head before starting to chew his lip. "But that ain't why I came back." 

"Why then?" she asked with a furrowed brow. 

Daryl continued to gnaw at his lip as he considered how to tell her. 

"Wanted to fix things for you," he finally decided on and watched her frown. 

"You wanted to fix things for me?" Carol repeated, as if she might have misunderstood. 

He nodded in reply. 

"Fix what?" she asked. 

Daryl sighed. He had known he would have to explain more, but it was daunting. He didn't want to upset her or make her feel like there was something wrong with her. He knew it would be easy for it to come across that way. 

"Things ain't been right with you for a long time," he said. "You've been… Not you," he described, unable to think of any other way of wording it. 

Memories flashed before him as he spoke: The time on the road after Terminus, that shelter in Atlanta, Alexandria when they had first arrived. All of that time, it had been like there had been a part of her missing, and It had kept getting worse. 

When she had adopted Henry and married the King, it had been like she had found a bit of peace. She hadn't been overbrimming with happiness as he had expected, but she had seemed content. Then when she lost that, she had started turning back into that shell of a woman again. 

"That ain't your fault. Of course, it ain't," Daryl hurried to add. He couldn’t blame her for being out of sorts after everything she had been through. "But I couldn't see you like that no more. Not if I knew I could do somethin' about it." 

A somewhat awkward silence ensued after he had admitted his reasoning. He could see tears building in Carol's eyes, which is precisely the opposite of what he had wanted. He guessed he had said it wrong, which was unsurprising. He was no good with words. 

"Daryl…" she trailed off, tears still shining in her eyes. 

"Please don't cry," he begged softly. "I just… I had to do this, okay? It weren't because there was anythin' wrong with you." 

Carol eyed him silently for a long moment before nodding. She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to will the tears away. Guilt gnawed at him for making her cry again, so he looked down at the tent floor. 

"Eugene told me what you did," she said soon, making him look up again. "How you saved me." 

Daryl furrowed his brow. He wasn't surprised Eugene had told her; he had just never contemplated the possibility of her ever finding out that she had died. He wondered how she had handled that. It couldn’t have been an easy thing to hear. He tuned back into her when he realised she was still talking. 

"He didn't really give me any details. He just said that we were in a cave, the horde was there, and I tried to do something, but I didn't make it out," Carol said in his silence. Her tears had stopped by now. "I know you don't have to tell me. It's over with after all, but what happened?" 

Daryl’s stomach knotted itself as memories from that day returned to him. The deep crimson of her blood flashed before his eyes like in his dream. He shook his head to will it away. Thoughts of that would just send him into a panic attack. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, obviously having seen his reaction. 

He sighed. 

"I'm alright," he told her. "Just… It was bad, Carol. Real bad." 

He watched her swallow and he could see the trepidation in her eyes. 

"You don't have to tell me," Carol said, though he could practically feel the curiosity burning in her. She wanted to know, but she didn't want to force him to tell her. 

"I know you wanna know, and I'll tell you. Just ain't gonna be easy, alright?" he told her. 

She nodded, shifting on her crate a little. 

"You remember when I tied you up?" he asked. He knew he was stalling, but he really wasn't looking forward to revisiting this memory. 

Carol nodded again. 

"That's why I did it. I couldn't let you run after Alpha. That's how we got stuck in the cave in the first place. She had a trap, and we all fell right into it." 

Carol let out a gasp. A look of deep self-loathing settled in her eyes. 

"I led you all into a trap?" 

Daryl shook his head at her even though it was essentially accurate. She had led them into a trap, but it had been his call to follow. He hadn't even cared about the others at that   
moment. All he had cared about was getting her back to safety. It was a little off-putting to realise he would have sacrificed all of them just so Carol would be okay. 

"It was on me too. You ran off, and I gave the order to follow," Daryl told her, trying to alleviate some of her guilt. It didn't work, though. That look was still in her eyes. She didn't   
try to argue, though, so he forced himself to be satisfied with that. 

"We were in there for hours," he continued, to distract himself. "There didn't seem to be any way out. Then you had an idea." 

Carol didn't attempt to interrupt him. She just sat there quietly, toying with the hem of her shirt. He was reminded that it was still covered in blood. The stain stood out dark on   
her navy shirt, looking almost black. The sight of it didn't help with the subject of conversation. He gulped and looked away. They needed to find her something to change into. 

"You got it into your head that you would distract the horde. Get 'em away from the cave walls to see if they were blocking an exit," he said. "Of course, I shut that shit down. Knew   
it was some bullshit attempt to sacrifice yourself," he added with a frown. 

He still felt like an idiot for his too quick acceptance of her backing down. He knew her too well to know she wouldn't just give up like that. He shook his head. It was too late now. What was done was done. 

"But soon as my back was turned, you did it anyway. Ran off with your gun, firing it off," Daryl continued. "I followed you as soon as I realised. Tried to get you to come back." 

His stomach was roiling as he replayed the moments leading up to the tragedy. He had been so sure he could get her back. That, after they made it out of the cave, he could yell at her, make his frustration known, then hold her in his arms and let her know he wasn't really mad, just worried. But that hadn't been how it had happened. 

"Eventually, it seemed like you were gonna come back. But it was too late," he said, and it felt like his throat was closing up. 

Carol was watching him with wide eyes. He was too overwhelmed right now to even gauge what she might be feeling as she listened to this. He trained his eyes on the tent floor.   
His vision was blurring, and he knew it was tears that were obscuring it. 

"The walkers... There was too many of 'em…." he said, trying to get the words he needed to leave his lips. "They… Oh god, Carol, there was so much blood," he gasped, blinking   
rapidly. 

Carol got to her feet and approached him quickly. She came to a stop in front of him, and her hands came forward to bury in his hair. She made a shushing noise. Her eyes held tears of her own. 

"You don't have to say anything else. I get it," Carol told him. She had started making gentle circles over his scalp with her fingers. 

He finally let out the sob he had been holding back, and he felt the moisture hit his cheeks. His arms closed around her waist somewhat awkwardly, and he buried his face into her belly. He let out all of the sorrow he had suffered alone for months with after losing her. 

Carol didn't seem to mind his breakdown. She just rubbed her hands over the back of his head, inadvertently pressing him closer to her. He could vaguely smell the blood that stained her shirt, which made him clutch her tighter and squeeze his eyes shut. 

Blood was probably something that would always haunt him now. Not enough to be debilitating but enough that it would always bring to mind that memory. The book from Atlanta had talked about things like that; triggers, they were called. 

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." 

He shook his head against her stomach. He pulled back despite his desire to bury himself in her. He looked up to her face and saw the moisture on her cheeks. She had been crying too. 

"Don't be sorry," he told her in a croaky voice. "You're here now. That's all that matters." 

"Still, you shouldn't have had to see that," Carol insisted with a frown. 

Daryl shrugged his shoulders weakly as he tried to calm himself down. 

"It ain't so bad now. It helped a lot to know I saved you. The memories just haunt me sometimes." 

Carol brought her hands forward and wiped gently at his cheeks. It didn't do much good in drying the tears away, mostly just spread them around, but he appreciated the gesture. 

"I know you don't want me to be sorry, but I am," she said, still frowning. "I'm glad it doesn't hurt you as much now, but the fact that you were hurting at all hurts me. I'm sorry I did that to you. That I let my desire for revenge do that to you." 

Daryl opened his mouth to argue. He had understood, even at the time that she hadn't been in her right mind when she'd done what she did. Never had Daryl been angry with her for it. Her hand came up, though, halting any words he might have said. 

"Please don't try to argue," she said before taking a deep breath. "Just… Just, if you can, accept my apology. I need you to," she begged with a tortured gaze. 

He sighed in response. As much as he wanted to spout his reassurances, she had just told him what it was she really wanted. He wouldn't hesitate to deliver. 

"I accept your apology," he told her simply. 

Carol let out the breath she had been holding and gave him a watery smile. 

"Thank you." 

He nodded, and taking the initiative, he got to his feet so he could pull her into a proper hug. She relaxed against him straight away. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe the guilt she had clearly been feeling. When she pulled away, the self-loathing he had seen was gone or at least pushed away for now. 

"I think we're going for a world record on this reunion," she quipped with a smirk. "How many times can we cry in a day?" 

Daryl snorted. 

"If anyone's gonna get that record, it'll be us," he replied with his own smirk. 

"Damn straight." 

Daryl moved away and rifled through the pack in the corner. He returned to her side with two bottles of water and handed her one. 

"Gotta replace some of that water we been leakin'," he said by way of explanation. 

Carol laughed but accepted the bottle and unscrewed the cap, taking a long drink. He did the same, enjoying the sensation of the water against his dry throat. Crying always made his throat feel like it was clogged with cotton wool. He guessed it was the same for her as he watched her chug the water down. 

He retook a seat and watched her return to hers on the other side of the tent. Instead of sitting, she picked up the crate and brought it over to rest next to his. She sat and leaned against his side. He sent her an amused look, and she shoved him gently. 

"Shut up," she muttered. He could see the small smile on her mouth. "Figured we should stick together. You know, in case we get another waterworks situation on our hands." 

He snorted. 

"Fair enough," he conceded. "Maybe we oughta pick a subject that ain't likely to set us off again. Least not for a little while." 

She hummed quietly and seemed to contemplate it. 

"I literally can't think of anything," she admitted soon, making them both laugh. 

"How about we talk about how the hell we're gonna explain you being here?" Daryl suggested once they had calmed down. "Shane mighta believed me 'bout being a relative an' all,   
but I don't think he'll believe it a second time." 

"He won't. It's too much of a coincidence," Carol replied without pause. 

"So, what do we do?" Daryl asked. 

He had no idea how they were going to explain it without revealing the whole time travel thing. That would not go down well. Shane would probably run them out of the camp. That or shoot them. Hard to tell with him. 

"Maybe I just hide out here for now," she suggested with a shrug. "If you're right about the timing of when we are, which I don't doubt, then not much will be happening for a while anyway." 

Daryl considered it. It wasn't a bad plan. It certainly solved any 'explaining' issues he had been worrying about. He could easily sneak her food and whatever she might need. It wasn't like anyone was going to come into his tent unannounced. They all seemed perpetually terrified enough of him to ensure that. 

"Ain't you gonna get bored, just sittin' around in a tent?" 

She shook her head with a smirk. 

"I'll be fine. You've got plenty of supplies, so I can work on arrows." 

Daryl knew he had no other plans, so it wasn't hard for him to get on board with hers. He just hoped he could keep her presence a secret. 

"Alright," he agreed. 

They sat there together silently for a long while. He always loved these moments, moments where they didn't feel the need to talk or do anything. They could just be there together in silence and enjoy each other's presence. He started working up the courage to put his arm around her, but Carol made a noise that halted his progression. 

"You okay?" he asked, leaning back a little to observe her. 

There was a wrinkle in her nose, and in her eyes was obvious displeasure. He followed her gaze and saw she was looking at her own shirt. Right. He had almost forgotten she needed new clothes. 

"I'm okay; I just feel so gross," she complained. "I didn't bring any changes of clothes with me. Think I was too eager to just get back here."

"I brought a couple of shirts with me. They won't fit you, but you could borrow one for now," he offered. 

"Do you mind?" she asked with a sheepish look. "It might get dirty." 

Daryl scoffed at her and raised a brow. 

"Are you really asking me if I give a shit if it gets dirty?" 

Carol huffed but smirked. 

"Fair point. Okay, hand it over." 

Daryl smiled and lifted himself from the crate. He moved to the bag and dug out one of his button-up shirts. He playfully tossed it at her, and she caught it just before it hit her in the face. She sent a glare at him, but he could see the humour in her eyes. 

"Thank you," she told him with genuine gratitude this time. 

He nodded. 

"'Course." 

She stood and brought her hands to the buttons on the shirt she was wearing. Daryl averted his eyes to the floor. It baffled him that she hadn't even asked him to look away. It was   
like she didn't care that he was there while she was about to change. It's not like they hadn't accidentally caught glimpses of each other changing before, but things had been   
different then. They had been so focused on survival that it hadn't really mattered. They weren't worried about any of that right now. It was a rare quiet moment. She had either trusted that he wouldn't look or trusted that if he did, he wouldn't look with anything negative in mind. Her trust in him was incredible. 

"Can you hand me one of those bottles of water?" she asked soon, pulling him from his thoughts. "I wish I could shower, but that'll have to do." 

He hurried to deliver her requested item. He also handed her a clean cloth. All of this, he did with his eyes trained on the ground. She might not mind him looking, but he wasn't going to risk that and exploit her privacy. If she cared, she didn't let it be known, she just thanked him for the items. He returned to his crate and looked down at his hands. 

Now that he’d had time to adjust to the idea of her being here, his mind started working a little better. She was practically covered in blood from the neck down. There were bruises on her throat that looked like they could have been from being choked or something. She hadn't explained a lot about what had happened to her. The only thing he could work out himself was that she had clearly been the victor in the fight. This wasn't her blood, after all. 

"This guy who took you," Daryl said as he watched his hands. He needed to clean up the blood from his busted knuckles later. "He was alone?" 

"He told me he had a group, but they’d gone out on a run. The campsite had four tents. That was all I could work out about how many there might be," Carol replied. He heard the   
rustle of fabric, so he knew it wasn't safe to look up yet. 

"You think they might be still out there?" he asked. If there was a group out there, that was a cause for concern. Especially if they were like this guy that Carol had run into. 

"Could be," she said. "Or they could already be dead. Maybe that's why we never ran into them the first time." 

Daryl hummed, but he wasn't comforted. 

"That's a hell of a big ‘maybe’ to gamble on," he pointed out. 

"I know," she agreed. "I was thinking about this last night. Wanted to find you so we could go check it out." 

Daryl nodded. He was on board a hundred percent with that idea. He wasn't willing to risk the camp's safety if he could do something about it. 

"I'm in," he told her. 

"Good," she said. "I'm decent," she added, and he could hear the smirk in her voice. 

He lifted his head and couldn't help from smiling. His shirt hung down over her thighs, and she had rolled the sleeves up to bunch at her elbows. She was practically swimming in the garment. He wished he had a camera as she looked so damn adorable right now. She narrowed her eyes at him, making him stupidly think she had read his mind and heard   
what he had thought. 

"You say one word about how I look, Mister…" she warned. 

He relaxed, berating himself for his dumbass thoughts. Of course, she didn't know what he was really thinking. If she had that ability, she would undoubtedly have slapped the shit out of him at some point over the last ten years. He held up his hands in front of himself. 

"Wasn't gonna say nothin'," he assured her, unable to help his smirk. 

Despite her warning, she giggled and looked down at herself. 

"I do look kind of ridiculous, don't I?" 

Daryl shook his head. 

"Nah, don't look ridiculous," he assured her earnestly. "You look good." 

She gave him a sceptical look but smiled. It reached her eyes, and it took his breath away momentarily. He swallowed hard and ducked his head a little. 

"So, we'll go look for the group?" she asked, bringing them back to the subject at hand. 

Daryl nodded. 

"Yeah," he agreed. "It'd be easier if we went now, but that might raise suspicions if anyone notices I'm gone." 

Carol hummed in acknowledgment. 

"How do you wanna play it?" she asked. 

"We wait until tonight," he decided. "Gonna be harder to track, but it ain't the first time I've had to do it at night. Got some flashlights, at least." 

It would be difficult at night but not impossible. It was the best option, anyway. If Shane came looking for him and he was gone, the man would immediately think the worst. He needed to keep this strange trust that was going between them. For now, at least. As soon as his past self returned, he knew all bets would be off. Carol nodded in response to his   
plan. 

"Sounds good to me." 

"Alright," he said with a nod. "I'm gonna head to the main camp. See what's goin' on and try and find some clothes for you." 

Carol smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him in that ridiculous way she sometimes did. He squinted at her, feeling his heart stutter. 

"My hero," she commented. 

Daryl scoffed and shoved her lightly before moving to the entrance of the tent. As much as her teasing flustered him, he would never wish she stopped. He loved every damn minute of it. He listened to her fading laughter as he headed towards the main camp. 

As he grew closer, he spotted Andrea's sister, Amy, reading a book in a camp chair. He had never talked to her. Hadn't really even taken notice of her, to be honest. He'd just seen what the girl's loss had done to her sister. He assumed, though, like most people in this camp, she was a decent enough person. 

Daryl approached her slowly, trying to work a friendly expression onto his face. He was better at those, but his face sometimes worked against his best efforts. She didn't seem to hear his approaching footsteps, though, so Daryl cleared his throat and she looked up with wide eyes. He didn't miss how she scooted her chair back a little. 

"Uh, hey," he greeted awkwardly, feeling guilty for having frightened her just by existing. "I'm D—Norman," he introduced, almost slipping up with his name. It wasn't easy to remember that shit. He knew he was going to have to get better at it if he wanted to keep his cover. 

Amy scrutinised him warily, and he half expected her to get up and run away with how she was sitting so rigidly in her chair. She didn't lose her tenseness even as she spoke. 

"I'm Amy." 

It was a good start that she'd even bothered to introduce herself, at least. He nodded to her before deciding to get to the point and save both of them some grief. 

"You know where they got any spare clothes around here?" he asked. "Lost most of mine." 

He experienced the same queasy feeling he always got when lying, even about small things like that. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. He'd just always disliked it ever since he could remember. He watched as Amy visibly relaxed a little and sat up straighter in her chair. 

"There should be some in the back of Dale’s RV," she told him in a guarded but kind voice. "Might not have much luck, though. There's more women's clothes than men's." 

Perfect, Daryl thought to himself. That meant he would hopefully be able to find a few things for Carol without anyone noticing they were missing. 

"I'll try my luck," he said. He gave her a half-smile. "Thanks." 

She didn't smile back, just looked at him oddly before nodding. He didn't hold it against her. It was natural and smart to be wary of someone you don't know. He couldn't deny it was a little strange to be regarded with distrust, though. No one was really scared of him in the future. Everyone pretty much knew him, so they knew he was trustworthy. It had been a while since he'd had to make such an effort not to scare people. 

The last had probably been Lydia, and they were well past that now. Well, they were, he thought sadly. He would probably never see her again. His throat tightened at the thought, and he cleared it roughly. It hadn't ever been acknowledged out loud, but it had seemed, at least to him, that he had become a sort of adoptive father to her. He didn't even know where she was now. He had meant to go look for her, but everything that had happened with Carol had taken over him completely. 

The guilt continued to build inside him as he headed to the RV. He had just left Lydia behind without a thought. What the hell kind of person did that make him? It wasn't even like he could go looking for her now. He had no idea where she had been at the start. They had never talked about it. He wouldn't even know the first place to start looking. She would have to endure her mother's bullshit all over again, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He felt sick now as he approached the RV. 

Dale was in his place on top, of course. He nodded his head in greeting, and Daryl returned it half-heartedly. His earlier happy mood brought on by Carol's presence and teasing was gone. He entered the vehicle and moved to the back, spotting several garbage bags. They were open, so he could see they were filled with clothes.

He rifled through each bag robotically, trying to find stuff that he thought would fit Carol. He knew it was no good stewing over these thoughts. There was nothing to be done about it, but he couldn't help feeling like the lowest scum there could be. Lydia had looked to him for support and comfort, and he had left her behind all because he couldn't stop thinking about Carol for one damn minute. 

He stuffed a few shirts, two pairs of pants, even a couple of pairs of woolly socks, (Carol really loved them), into an empty garbage bag. When he'd come across the women's underwear, he hadn't studied them too much, just grabbed some that looked like they might work and left it to Carol to decided if they did or didn't. 

While he was there, he decided it would be smart to assess what was available for himself. He had only brought a few shirts with him, and while he didn't need much, he knew it was a good idea to have back-ups. 

He rummaged around and saw that Amy was right. There wasn't much in the way of men's clothes. Still, he managed to find a pair of cargos that Carol would undoubtedly be happy with. She had been on his case about his ratty pants for a long time. 

He replaced everything he didn't want back in the bags and left the RV. He tried his best to push thoughts of Lydia from his mind for now. He didn't want to return to Carol as a ball of misery. She was right about them crying too much in the span of a day. Before he could even attempt to head back to his tent, though, he was accosted by Shane. The man approached with his hands on his hips. Daryl gave him a nod in greeting. 

"Hey, man," Shane said. "Just wanted to know what time would suit you for watch?" 

Right. Daryl had forgotten about that. He didn’t hesitate to give his reply. 

"I'm pretty good with any time. Like night watch best, though.” 

He preferred night watch because he trusted his ability to see in the dark more than the others. Even the first time around, after they had left the farm, he had insisted upon taking nights. Shane nodded, and he looked pleased by the response. 

"That's good. It's like pulling teeth 'round here trying to get anyone to take nights," Shane explained with a huff. "You and Dale can split it if that works for you." 

Daryl nodded. 

"Fine with me." 

Shane dipped is head and clapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl forced himself not to pull away. He wasn't as bad about flinching away from touch as he used to be. He was just wary of letting this man in particular near him. As kind as Shane had been to him, he knew another man was lurking beneath the surface. It was hard to forget to raving psychopath he became. 

When Shane took his hand back, Daryl remembered something. He couldn't take watch tonight. He and Carol were going to look for that group, but he couldn't let Shane know that, of course. He had to come up with a cover story. 

"Hey, I'm happy to take nights whenever you're needin' me to, but tonight I ain't feelin' up to it," he lied. His stomach grumbled in displeasure at the lie. "I'd feel better if you had someone else on. Wouldn't trust myself to do my job properly, you know?"

Shane looked a little annoyed, but he nodded. At least this was the more level headed Shane. The Shane that had emerged at the farm would have bitten his head off about it. 

"Alright. No problem," Shane said. "You think you'll be good for tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow'll be fine," Daryl assured him. 

"Good," Shane said before walking away without another word. 

Daryl started back towards the outer camp again. He passed Lori on his way, who gave him an owlish look. He gave her a nod, which just made her frown, before walking on. He wanted to try to get along with her. Get to know her even. She was Judith's mom. He felt like he owed it to her to try to find the good in the woman. There had to be some there, he reasoned, even if he had never seen it himself. Why else would Rick and Shane have been at each other's throats over her? 

Carol looked up as he entered the tent. Despite the mood he had dropped into, he couldn't help smiling a little as he saw her in his shirt again. Her eyes zeroed in on the garbage bag he was holding, and he waved it in the air. 

"Got you some clothes," he said, dumping the bag on the floor. 

She put down her knife and the arrow she had been working on and approached it. She opened it and dug around inside. She pulled something out and held it up with a raised brow. 

"These definitely aren't going to fit me," she commented with a smirk. 

Daryl examined what she was holding and scoffed. He reached out and snatched the cargo pants from her hands. 

"They're mine, smartass," he told her in a growl. 

She giggled in response and returned her attention to examining the rest of the contents of the bag. She started pulling out the clothes he'd picked out for her. There wasn't any real reaction from her about them. She just placed them in a pile beside her casually. That is, until she reached the underwear. She held up a bra with a smirk. 

He tensed immediately. Oh shit, he thought to himself. He knew he was in for it. He hoped she wasn't going to give him shit for picking out underwear for her. It wasn't like he'd even looked at them anyway. He'd just grabbed a few that looked small enough to fit her slight frame. He’d been so wrapped up in his guilt that he hadn’t even had the wherewithal to be embarrassed. Now he was. 

"I'm flattered you think I'd fit in this, Daryl," she said, still smirking. 

"Hell, I don't know. Just grabbed what the hell was there," he muttered with a blush. "Too small?" he asked, trying to sound practical. 

"Too big. Like two cup sizes too big," Carol explained with a wrinkle of her nose. 

"I don't know nothin' about that," Daryl admitted, still blushing. 

Carol giggled again. He didn't know why she loved to fuck with him so much. It seemed to make her whole damn day. Ever since they left the farm, she had started doing it. It had been subtle at first. She had probably been gauging his reactions, wondering if he would be mad at her for it. He didn’t blame her for that. He had been a different man back then.   
By the time they reached the prison though, she held nothing back. 

"Relax," she said, still smirking slightly. "It's not a big deal. The one I'm wearing now will hold up for a while. Just need to wash it." 

Daryl nodded, relieved she was letting him off the hook. 

“Good,” he muttered awkwardly. 

He watched her fold the rest of her things silently. He caught it easily when she tried to stifle a yawn or two. Had she even slept last night? She would have been alone and he knew she struggled to sleep outside even when surrounded by a group. She must have stayed up all night. 

“Hey, we got a long time before we need to get going,” Daryl commented. “Why don’t you take a nap?” 

Carol had turned her head to look at him as soon as he had spoken. Now, there was a look of conflict on her face and she was biting her lip as if she was struggling to decide. 

“Come on,” Daryl insisted. “Could use a few more hours myself.”

Honestly, he wasn’t all that tired but if it helped make her feel better about it, then he would lie down, no questions asked. He watched her tiredness win out as she let out a sigh before nodding. 

“Alright,” she conceded. “Just for a little while.” 

She moved to the bedroll on the other side of the tent and Daryl winced. Yeah, that was a bad idea. 

“Uh, I wouldn’t if I were you,” Daryl hastened to say. 

She turned to look at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That’s Merle’s,” he said as if that was the only explanation required. 

She lifted a brow. 

“I figured that, unless you shared your tent with someone else…” she trailed off with a hint of a smirk. 

Daryl huffed and shook his head. 

“I just mean, Merle’s kinda gross and I wouldn’t be surprised if you caught somethin’,” Daryl explained with a grimace as he looked at the sleeping bag that belonged to his   
brother. 

Carol let out a peal of laughter in response. 

“Are you just ribbing your brother or are you being serious?” she asked, humour still in her eyes. 

Daryl snorted. 

“Both. Really wouldn’t risk it.” 

She laughed again but moved away from Merle’s side of the tent. She turned an appraising look on him. 

“We can share then,” she said. “If you don’t mind.” 

Daryl felt his cheeks heat up at the thought but he shook his head quickly. 

“Nah, don’t mind.” He didn’t mind at all, in fact. Honestly, he had missed it. 

When they had been on the road after they lost the farm, he and Carol had ended up sharing a sleeping space more than once. It had been awkward as hell to begin with, of   
course. He had hated being touched back then. 

Eventually, once his body realised she meant no harm, he had come to enjoy her closeness. It had even been difficult to get used to sleeping without her once they found the prison, though he’d never admitted to it. 

“Good,” she replied and he was surprised to see a pink tinge to her cheeks. She couldn’t be freaking out about this as much as he was, could she? It didn’t seem possible. He was the one who got flustered, not her. 

He watched her drop to her knees on the tent floor beside the sleeping bag. She turned her gaze up to where he stood above her. She had an expectant look. Right, he muttered inwardly. He remembered how this went. 

Daryl removed his vest and dropped it carelessly to the floor. Then, he pulled both of the knives from his belt and lay them beside the sleeping bag within easy reach. His didn’t bother with his boots as he climbed into the sleeping bag. They had learned long ago that it was safer to keep them on. 

He situated himself so he lay on his back and held up the sleeping bag in invitation. Carol wasted no time in crawling in too. She manoeuvred her body around a bit until she was laying with most of her torso on him, while the rest of her lay on her side, pressed against him. Her head was settled over his heart and he knew she would be able to hear the pounding of his heartbeat. He hoped she just related it to his nerves from how long it’s been since they had done this. In reality, it was because he could feel practically every inch of her, not to mention her scent seemed to surround him. 

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing to distract himself. It didn’t help too much, especially when he could feel the swell of her breasts against him. Don’t think about that, he growled inwardly. If he let himself focus on that, they would have an actual awkward moment to talk about. He blushed at the prospect and shifted a bit, so his hips were away from her body. He was not risking that. 

Daryl turned his mind to the past in an attempt to distract himself further. He remembers how violently he had jumped when she had crowded up on him like this the first time. Before then, they had slept huddled close, but this had been the first time they’d had to share a sleeping bag. The cold temperature had not allowed much else in the way of options. They, as always, apart from T Dog, were the odd ones out, leaving them to share the remaining available sleeping bag. 

Carol had decided she would prefer to share with him instead of the other man, something that had baffled him at the time. He hadn’t refused her though. Even with his aversion to touch, he had been strangely eager for the opportunity to be that close to her. He hadn’t allowed himself to consider why at the time, but he knew the truth now. Even back then, Carol had worked her way under his skin and had seared herself onto his heart. 

Still, when she had practically climbed on top of him, he had almost pulled completely away. She had, in her sweet way, apologised profusely and had attempted to leave to go share with T Dog instead. That had been enough to snap him out of his panic. It had caused a feeling of jealousy to sweep over him at the thought of her being that close to the other man, even though he knew there was nothing there between them. He had told her that it was okay, and to get in. She had been hesitant but eventually relented. He had made sure not to move one muscle until she was situated how she liked. After a while, it had become a routine for her to clamber over him like he was her combined pillow and mattress. 

“Hey,” Carol’s voice came out of nowhere. 

Daryl blinked and tilted his head to look down at her. There was a look of concern in her eyes as she looked up at him. 

“You okay?” she asked. 

His arm curled around her back to press her closer to him. He had let his mind run away from him, he realised. He started to rub up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her worries. 

“I’m good,” he told her. “You?” he asked. 

He knew it was pretty cramped with the two of them in the bag. Not to mention, he had been thinner the last time they had done this. Starvation would do that to you. Now, his body was completely different, having bulked up after so many years of the regular food the communities provided. Carol hummed softly and nuzzled her head closer. 

“Perfect,” she replied. 

He kept up the gentle motion of his hand over her back, hoping it was at least comforting her. It was certainly comforting him. Every sweep over the material of her (well his) shirt, reminded him that she was here—Right here beside him—And he was no longer alone, a feeling that had been persistent since his arrival. 

He didn’t realise she had already passed out until he heard the quiet snores. He smiled a little. He was glad she had managed to drop off. She needed the rest. His own eyes were getting pretty heavy too, he realised. He continued stroking his hand up and down Carol’s back, hardly noticing himself doing it, before he too fell into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I keep ending chapters with them going to sleep. It's cliche and overdone, but it just worked for me when I was writing. I hope you'll forgive me. 
> 
> Also, I promise I'll stop ragging on Daryl's pants in this story. Maybe...


	14. Awkward Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol (aka PAST Carol) decides to bring Daryl some dinner again. This time, she's in for the surprise of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Sorry I've been kind of radio silence lately on tumblr and on here and NLs. I haven't been feeling well and I'm only just getting better. 
> 
> Hope you're all doing well and had a safe New Years. 
> 
> I know there are a fair few of you who have been eagerly anticipating this chapter. It surprised me how much some of you enjoyed Past Carol finding Future Daryl and Carol cuddled up together in the first version of this story. For that reason, I have kept it in this version because I couldn't deprive you of it. It is a little different though and I hope you enjoy it as much as you did in the other one. 
> 
> Also, I should mention, I have taken to using Grammarly. So anything that doesn't sound right can be blamed on me and Grammarly. I'd hope it's mostly Grammarly. I read through the chapter multiple times though and to me, it seems okay. Let me know if I missed anything. 
> 
> Anyway, I know you're all probably impatient for me to get to the point where S1 actually starts but it is coming in the next two chapters, I believe. Then things will start getting interesting as I play around with the canon of the show.

**Carol** checked the pot on the fire again. Nearly ready, she decided. She glanced around and saw the way everyone had arranged themselves around the fire, prepared for dinner. 

Dale was currently regaling Andrea, Amy, and Jim with tales of his past while they attempted to appear as invigorated by the stories as he was. Lori sat in a camp chair, her eyes watching Carl and Sophia as they chatted animatedly on the ground near her.

 **Carol** smiled at the sight of the two kids. She was glad Sophia had Carl in this mess. Her daughter had always been shy and had trouble making friends at school. Carl Grimes had attached himself to Sophia quickly, though. They were almost always together these days, and **Carol** was thankful for it. She was happy that her daughter had managed to find friendship in this hell of a world.

 **Carol’s** eyes moved from Sophia back to her task as she set the plates down, ready to be filled. She watched Shane walk by in front of the fire and move over to Lori. The two shared an intense look before he sat in the chair beside her with a sigh.

 **Carol** didn’t spend long watching the couple. There was a lot of drama between them from what she had seen. When she had first met them, she had assumed they were husband and wife, and Carl, their son. She had been surprised to learn that Lori's husband had died, and Shane had been his partner on the police force. It was a scandalous situation, but it wasn’t her business, so she didn’t pry.

With the thought of the word ‘husband’, **Carol’s** eyes settled on her own ‘husband’. Ed was sitting, purposely, a little way from everyone else. His face held numerous bruises, and his eye was almost swollen shut. He had been in a mood ever since he had gotten his face bashed in. She had waited the whole time with bated breath for him to take it out on her. So far, he hadn’t. She knew not to feel comforted by this, though. He was just biding his time, stewing on his anger. When he was ready, he would let it loose on her.

Thinking of the beating that her husband had endured made her think of its source: Daryl Dixon. More importantly, Daryl Dixon from the future. She hadn’t even recognised him at first. He looked so different from the gruff man she was used to seeing around camp. His hair had obscured most of his face as he beat Ed, so it had been easy for her to think he was a stranger.

Whilst most of **Carol** had been in shock, part of her had stupidly wondered if her prayers had been answered. If God had sent her an avenging angel to exact revenge on her husband. The wing on his back had helped this thought along. She blushed, still not believing she had admitted that to him the night before. At least he hadn’t outright laughed in her face.

“When the hell’s dinner gonna be ready?” came Ed’s irritated voice.

 **Carol** jumped, not realising how distracted she had been. She quickly set about serving plates and announcing that dinner was ready. Everyone made their way over to her to accept a plate with a polite ‘thanks’. Everyone except for Ed, of course. He sat parked in his chair with his arms crossed, unwillingly to move to serve himself.

Like the dutiful wife she was, she filled his plate and made her way over to him, tensely. Ed eyed her derisively before he snatched the plate from her hands, nearly dislodging the contents. If he had, he would no doubt have passed the blame onto her. It’s what he did.

She passed him some utensils and watched as he dug into his food. She waited for the snide comments, but he just grumbled and continued to eat. That was as close to a compliment on her cooking as she was ever going to get from him.

 **Carol** hurried back to the pot to make herself a plate. She paused as she thought of Daryl. She hadn’t seen him since the night before. She knew she shouldn’t make it a habit to bring him food. If Ed found out, he would be livid. Still, she couldn’t help the urge to bring him something. He had been nothing but kind to her, and she felt like she owed him for what he had done.

Decision made, she filled a plate and glanced in Ed’s direction. Thankfully, he was not paying attention to her at all. His head was down, intent on the food he was eating. Knowing she needed to hurry to avoid being caught, she carried herself and the plate past the fire on the way to the outer camp.

The darkness was a little off-putting; she had to admit. Usually, when she would make the trek to her tent, there were other campers on their way back too. Ed usually returned when he was good and ready and Sophia had been spending her nights in Lori’s tent, wanting to be close to Carl.

Had it been the old world, **Carol** would not have been so accepting of a boy/girl sleepover. However, she was not worried about it at all. She knew Lori would be there and she trusted Carl. She was mostly happy that Sophia was elsewhere when Ed went into a rage.

She arrived in the outer camp and surveyed the Dixon’s tent. She was wary of approaching after being greeted by a knife last time. But then, he hadn’t attempted to attack her; he had just been ready should there be a need. With that thought, she moved onwards, almost confident of the fact that Daryl would check for a threat before using of those enormous knives.

She hesitated just outside of the tent, though. It wasn’t like she could knock. Even if she tried to, the fabric of the tent would only mute the sound. She glanced around to check if anyone else was around before calling out. She didn’t want anyone to hear her call him by his real name.

“Daryl?” she called, keeping her voice relatively quiet.

There was no reply or movement from the tent. Perhaps he was asleep. He had seemed rather tired when she had last seen him. If that were the case, he probably wouldn’t want to be disturbed. She should just go back and leave it to him to come looking for food. But he had said last night not to hesitate to come to him for anything. Surely he wouldn’t be upset if she woke him to give him some dinner.

With a renewed resolve, she took a deep breath and pushed the material of the tent aside. When she didn’t come face to face with one of those terrifying knives, she took a step inside. Her eyes immediately drifted to the bedroll on the left, but nobody was occupying it. When her eyes left it to examine the only other sleeping bag in the tent, she blanched. It was occupied alright, but not only by Daryl.

A woman was lying practically on top of him. By way of the moonlight streaking into the tent, **Carol** could see that she had silver hair. It was slightly askew with pieces of hair falling out of the knot at the back of her head.

The silver-haired woman's face was pressed into Daryl’s chest, seemingly fast asleep. Because of the angle and the darkness, **Carol** was unable to see the woman’s face. She turned her attention upwards to Daryl himself and saw he was just as asleep as his companion was. His eyes were closed and his mouth gaped open a bit.

She shifted uncomfortably. She needed to leave. This was a private moment, and she was intruding. It didn’t matter that the woman was a stranger to her. If Daryl was comfortable enough to snuggle up to her, then she must be okay. Somehow, she knew she could trust his judgement.

She turned to leave, hoping that they never knew she saw them, but before she could pass the threshold of the tent, her foot caught on something, and she stumbled. She managed to not drop the plate she was holding, thankfully. She shook her head at her clumsiness before attempting to leave again. A sound behind her stopped her short, and she turned warily.

The woman had rolled off Daryl and had grabbed something beside her on the tent floor. A knife, **Carol** realised with a gulp. One not as large as Daryl’s, but certainly no less deadly. The woman lifted herself to her feet and held the knife out in front of her threateningly. **Carol** took a fearful half-step backwards.

 **Carol** turned her attention to Daryl to see he was on his feet too, both of those large knives in his hands. He took a step forward, placing himself in front of the mystery woman. He was shielding her, **Carol** realised. She held her hands up, shakily.

“Daryl?” she called, hating how her voice wobbled. “It’s me. It’s Carol.”

She didn’t receive a reply, but she could see through the darkness of the tent as Daryl lowed the knives. She relaxed a little before she remembered his companion. Her eyes warily drifted back to the woman, watching as her knife lowered too. It was too dark to make out the woman's face, so **Carol** had no idea how she felt about the situation.

“I’m sorry,” **Carol** muttered awkwardly. “I need to stop barging in on you. I just noticed you didn’t come for dinner and I thought you might be hungry…” she rambled, wishing she could stop.

She was not making a good first impression on Daryl’s friend. Halting her stream of apologies and excuses, she decided to address the woman instead of ignoring her presence. That was rude and if there was one thing she hated, it was coming off as rude.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she started, attempting a smile that was probably useless in the dark. “My name is Carol.”

The mystery woman did not attempt to return the greeting, which made **Carol** feel increasingly insecure. She saw how the woman turned her head in Daryl’s direction and watched him return the look before clearing his throat. It was a strange, awkward sound.

“I got a lantern,” he said in a gravelly tone. “I’m gonna light it. Just… Try not to freak out.”

 **Carol** didn’t bother replying, she just waited. Why would she freak out? Was this woman someone she knew? Someone else from the future? It made sense that this had to be someone he knew well from the way they had been sleeping together.

A warm glow filled the tent, and **Carol** blinked her eyes a few times to let them adjust. She looked at Daryl first. His eyes held wariness, and he seemed to be attempting to chew his lip off. Clearly, he was feeling anxious at this moment. She hesitantly turned her gaze to the stranger and gasped. Not a stranger.

 **Carol** didn’t know who she expected to see or if she’d had anyone in mind at all, but she certainly hadn’t expected this. It was _her_. This strange, mysterious woman that she had caught wrapped around Daryl was _her_. Her mouth opened and closed again and again as she tried to think of anything to say.

“You alright?” Daryl finally asked after a long silence.

 **Carol** couldn’t do anything other than nod her head shakily. The other 'her' was simply watching her. There was a look of curiosity in her eyes, along with a hint of something that **Carol** couldn’t pinpoint. Whatever it was, **Carol** was sure she didn’t like it. It was almost like disgust.

Ignoring that discomforting thought, **Carol** took the opportunity to study the undoubtedly future version of herself. She had silver curls that were mostly held back from her face. It amazed her to see herself with long hair. It had been so long since she had first shaved all of her hair off. She used to have vibrant, auburn curls that reached the middle of her back. After she had shaved them off, she had gone grey pretty quickly. Apparently, she was only going to get greyer.

This other Carol was wearing an odd ensemble too. Her shirt was ill-fitting and made her form seem slighter than it probably was. It wasn’t hard to deduce that it was a man's shirt. Daryl's shirt, presumably, **Carol** amended with a blush.

What did that mean? Daryl had told her that she was his best friend in the future, but given the evidence, things seemed more intimate than that. They had been cuddled up pretty close before she had startled them. Were they, in fact, more than friends? It stood to reason that Daryl might have been hesitant to reveal that to her.

It seemed ridiculous to think of a man like Daryl seeing her that way. He was strong and handsome and brave. What could he possibly want from her? But then again, she thought, this woman was nothing like her. The brief glimpse she’d had, assured **Carol** of that. She was not the meek, pathetic woman that **Carol** was. There was a strength about her and a confidence that **Carol** had never possessed. It wasn’t hard to think that Daryl would be into someone like that. **Carol** swallowed heavily.

“You’re… You’re me,” she finally breathed.

The other Carol twisted her mouth a little before she spoke. It wasn’t hard for **Carol** to see that the future version of her did not like her very much. She didn’t understand why, though. Perhaps it was just the oddness of coming face to face with yourself. 

“I’m you,” Carol confirmed with an air of impatience.

 **Carol** shivered under the intimidating weight of the woman’s stare and looked to Daryl instead. His head was turned to Carol, and there was a furrow in his brow. **Carol** wondered if he was as taken aback by her hostility as she was.

“How?” **Carol** asked to break the awkward silence. She watched the two time travellers share a look before Daryl spoke.

“She followed me back here,” he explained. “Wanted to help me with what I’m tryin’ to do.”

That made sense. That’s what a friend would do, after all.

“Of course,” **Carol** muttered, still reeling from the unexpected encounter.

She wobbled a little in place, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Gentle hands caught hold of her shoulders, steadying her. She blinked and saw Daryl’s form right in front of her. It was he who had caught her. She could see the concern in his eyes as he looked her over.

“You alright?”

 **Carol** didn’t know if she was alright. All of this was so overwhelming, and part of her felt like she might faint, but she nodded to reassure him. She didn’t want him worrying over her unnecessarily. She also didn’t want to show too much weakness in front of her future self. She already felt like a bug to be squashed under her boot.

“I’m okay,” she replied, attempting a smile.

Daryl didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. He released her, and she stupidly found herself missing his touch. She shook the thought away and turned her attention back to Daryl. His hands reached out again.

“Let me take that ‘fore you drop it,” he said, taking the plate that she had forgotten about from her hands. Yeah, she was one more freak out away from making a mess of his tent, so it was a good idea for him to take it.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as she relinquished the dish. She watched him place it on a plastic milk crate before returning to stand beside slightly scary, future self.

 **Carol** glanced at each of them before taking a step back. She needed to go. Daryl may not mind her presence, but she could tell his ‘best friend’ did. She purposely avoided the woman's gaze as she addressed Daryl again.

“I should go,” she said weakly. “I’m sorry for barging in on you.”

She turned and started to leave the tent. She felt like she was suffocating under the tension that seemed to exude from the other woman.

“Hey,” Daryl called after her, making her pause. “You don’t gotta go.”

 **Carol** turned her head to look at him sceptically. He looked earnest in his invitation, but one glance to his companion strengthened her resolve to leave. The woman looked miffed at Daryl’s words. **Carol** mustered a smile for his benefit.

“It’s okay. I need to get back anyway.”

Daryl nodded, but she could still see the troubled look in his eyes. He probably knew she was leaving because of the future Carol, but he didn’t seem inclined to call her on it. She was glad. She needed a moment to process all of this.

 **Carol** left the tent quickly before starting back to the main camp. Despite the animosity she had been faced with from her future self, part of her felt bad that she hadn’t been able to give Carol food as well. There was hardly enough on the plate for her and Daryl to share. She sighed. She would just have to deal with the guilt. There was no way she was going back.

\---

In the aftermath of **Carol’s** departure, Daryl felt out of sorts. He had never considered that she might show up. It was a stupid mistake on his part. He had told her not to hesitate in coming to see him, so she hadn’t. God only knows how she must have felt when she had seen them. He hadn’t missed the red on her cheeks, nor was he ignorant of what it must have looked like.

He was also more than a little confused by Carol’s reaction. He would have expected a little strangeness from her when coming face to face with herself, but he never expected such animosity. She seemed incredibly pissed off; especially when he had told **Carol** that she didn’t have to leave. He didn’t understand it. **Carol** had been perfectly polite, if not a little awkward.

“Well, that went well,” Carol quipped out of nowhere, but she didn’t look amused.

Daryl eyed her critically. She still looked ticked off even though they were alone once more. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and he could see the tension in her form. He shrugged in response to her statement.

“Went as well as it could.”

That was a bit of a stretch. It definitely could have gone better, and it might have if they’d had more time to prepare. Too late for that now.

Carol scoffed and shook her head. She uncrossed her arms and reached her hands up, pulling the clip from her hair. Her silver curls tumbled down around her shoulders and back. She set to combing her fingers through the strands, trying to neaten them. He’d have to see if he could find a hairbrush for her, he thought as he watched her. His pulse picked up as her locks glowed a little in the lantern light.

It was times like these that she seemed like an otherworldly being. Her hair seemed as if it could have been spun from actual silver with the way it gleamed in the light. The lantern made the lines of her face jut out but not unpleasantly. No, they gave her a regal air, making her look even more the queen she had been once upon a time. Her anger made her eyes light up in a way that reminded him of actual flames. At this moment, she appeared as he knew her to be inside: Terrifying and beautiful. Carol’s sigh brought him out of his daydream.

“We shouldn’t have let her go like that,” she commented.

Daryl cocked his head, studying her. Was she expressing concern for her past self? Had she gotten over her momentary anger? He brightened a little inside at the prospect. He didn’t want any more of that animosity. But then she continued.

“We don’t know if she’s going to tell everyone that I’m here. If she does, I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Carol said with pursed lips. 

Daryl deflated. Her words hadn’t been out of concern but suspicion. It shouldn’t be such a surprise. She had always had more trouble trusting people than him. For a good reason too. But he couldn’t help being disappointed.

“She won’t tell no one,” Daryl told her, believing it a hundred percent. **Carol** wasn’t going to tell anyone. He trusted her with his—their—secret. 

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a sceptical look.

He bristled a little, unable to help feeling defensive. **Carol** was so fragile and downtrodden at this moment in time. She didn’t need to be talked about like this.

“Yeah, I am,” he insisted with a growl.

Carol’s brows raised at his tone, but she didn't argue the point. She gathered her hair and twisted it until it was once more held in place by the clip at the back of her head. He shamefully was disappointed. He liked when her hair was loose and wild.

“I hope you’re right,” she said. Her eyes drifted to the corner of the tent, and he followed her gaze to see the plate **Carol** had delivered. “You should eat before we go out,” she suggested. 

Daryl shook his head. He wasn’t hungry. Any appetite he might have had left him in the wake of the altercation.

“Ain’t hungry,” he replied. “You have it. You’ve had barely anythin’ since you got here.”

Carol looked ready to argue, but he cut her off before she could. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

“We got shit to do, and you need your strength,” he growled. “Just eat the damn food.”

Carol gave him a withering look, but she crossed the tent to grab the plate. She sat on the crate and ate silently. While he moved about the tent, her glare followed him. He gathered what he felt they would need for their mission and pretended to ignore it. He hated it, though.

He hated when she was pissed at him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was awful. No matter whose fault it was, he always had the strongest urge to fall to his knees in front of her and beg for forgiveness. He had never given in to that urge, and he wasn’t about to now, but his skin itched with displeasure. Hopefully, the tension would fade once they got away from camp.

When she was finished eating, she stood with a look that meant business. She grabbed her bow and quiver and moved to the tent opening. She didn’t look back at him as she spoke.

“Let’s go.”

Daryl sighed as he watched her leave the tent. He shouldered his pack—A regular one, not a time machine, it wouldn’t be good to lose one of them out there—And grabbed his bow. He stepped outside the tent, seeing Carol’s form marching off through the trees. He sighed again.

It was going to be a long night.

\---

Carol moved silently through the trees, following the path she remembered as best she could in the dark. She had been so angry that she hadn’t even waited to get a flashlight before walking off. Thankfully, the moon was bright enough to light most of the area in a blue glow.

She was hyper-aware of Daryl's presence behind her. She didn’t know why she had gotten so mad at him. It wasn’t his fault; he was just being kind as always. She had just been so keyed up after seeing her past self. Unfortunately, she had taken that out on him.

It had been unnerving to come face to face with the woman she had once been: Shaved head, awful, ill-fitting clothes and a meek countenance. It had immediately filled Carol with disgust. This was who she used to be: A weak, useless nothing. This was the woman that had let Sophia run off and get lost in the woods, never to be seen again.

Every stilted word that had escaped the woman’s lips had intensified Carol’s distaste. It was only Daryl’s presence that had stopped her from screaming in **Carol’s** face. She had wanted her to know. To know how useless she was, how much of a failure of a mother she was. Then, maybe she’d wise up and do something worthwhile like actually protecting her daughter. Daryl wouldn’t have appreciated that though, so she had held her tongue. His insistence that she eat had just sent her frustrations spilling over.

“Hey!” she heard him call out to her.

Carol paused her trek but hesitated in turning. She didn’t want to have to face any questioning about her feelings right now. She felt entirely justified for her rage towards her past self. She slowly turned around and saw Daryl closing the distance between them. He had been walking a few feet behind her. As he neared, he held his hand out. She heard a click, and then there was light.

“Here,” he said, offering her the flashlight in his hand.

She took it silently and watched him click on another. They both pointed the beacons of light towards the ground as they stood in front of each other. It wasn’t hard to see the questions forming in Daryl’s mind as she watched him.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s jaw ticked. He was clearly not happy with her shutting the conversation down before it could begin. But in true Daryl fashion, he respected her wishes.

“Alright,” he muttered.

She nodded, satisfied she was off the hook, for now at least. She knew it would only be a matter of time. He would surely find another occasion to bring it up. She hoped for his sake her mood was better when the time came.

“Come on, let’s get this done,” she said to bring them back to their task.

This time, they fell into step side by side. They directed their flashlights on the ground and the trees, keeping an eye out for tracks or signs of the group. And of course, any walkers that may amble their way. So far, things looked quiet.

“You pissed at me?” Daryl asked after a long silence.

Carol sighed, feeling guilt eat at her. He was probably waiting for her to bite his head off for even speaking.

“No,” she told him. She didn’t bother looking at him. It was too dark to see his face. “I was never pissed at you. It was just my own bullshit. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

She could practically feel him relax even though there was a significant gap between their bodies as they walked. He must have really thought that she was mad at him for some reason.

“It’s alright,” he replied, letting her hear the sincerity in his voice. “You know, if you wanna talk about it, you can?” he added after a brief pause.

“I know,” she said. She knew he would listen to whatever she had to say. “I just don’t want to, okay?”

She turned to him and directed her light to rest on his chest, so it lit his face up without blinding him. He was biting his lip, letting her know he was conflicted, but he nodded. She lowered her flashlight and turned to keep walking, and Daryl followed her after a beat.

They walked in silence for a while before they passed the tree with the 'X' on it. That mark indicated they were almost to the camp. She wondered what they would find.

“The camp is just up ahead,” Carol whispered to Daryl as she knocked an arrow.

Daryl nodded, readying a bolt in his bow. They both crept forward until she stopped them at the tree line that surrounded the camp. She gave him a nod to let him know they were here. He dropped into a crouch, and she followed suit. They had already killed their flashlights to not give themselves away.

She watched as Daryl rummaged in his pack and brought out a pair of binoculars. He brought them up and peered through them. She saw a crease appear in his brow after a few seconds. It would be too dark to see anything for anyone else, even her, but Carol didn't doubt his skills. He had been honing these skills for years before she knew him.

“What?” she whispered.

Daryl shook his head as he lowered the binoculars. There was a furrow to his brow, letting her know he had seen something worrying. He chewed his lip.

“Somethin’s wrong,” he said. “Camp looks all fucked up.”

Carol frowned. That could mean anything. When she had left the camp, it had been fine. Something must have happened in the time since she’d been gone.

"When I left, it was in perfect condition,” she told him. “Something must have happened."

Daryl dumped the binoculars back in the pack and got to his feet. He held out a hand to her, and she took it, accepting his help as she rose from the ground. Once she was steady on her feet, she let go of him. She experienced the same dismay she always did when breaking contact with him but she forced it away.

“Alright, I’ma go this way,” Daryl told her, pointing straight ahead. “You circle ‘round and come in from the back. We don’t want no surprises.”

Carol nodded, satisfied with his plan. She gripped her bow and made to move in the direction he had assigned to her, but his hand on her elbow pulled her up short. She glanced at him questioningly.

“You be careful, alright?” he ordered in a soft tone she rarely heard him use. To be honest, she had only ever heard him use it on her and the kids.

Carol gave him a quirk of her lips.

“Nine lives, remember?”

She blinked as soon as she said it. She doesn’t know why she did. It had been years since she had spoken them to him at the prison. Why had they all of a sudden left her lips again? She bit her lip and watched as a faraway look took over his eyes. Was he getting as long in the past as she had? After a long moment, he huffed and shook his head.

“Yeah, what are you on? Five or six?” he teased with a glare.

She snorted quietly. That was probably true. She had probably already used all of her said 'Nine Lives'. She was grateful for his light hearted words, though. She had worried for a second that she might have embarrassed herself by bringing up the memory. She should know better. Daryl didn’t make fun of her.

“Still leaves me four more…” she teased back, smiling at him, though she wondered if he could even see it in the dark. Then again, she realised, he probably could. 

Daryl huffed again but she could swear she saw his lips lip a little.

“Anythin’ goes wrong, we meet back where I left my bike,” he instructed, his tone serious once more.

She nodded just as seriously.

“See you soon,” she replied.

They shared a lingering look before heading in their appointed directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one. Let me know if you did and maybe even let me know what you think will happen going forward. I'm curious about what you think I'm going to do lol. 
> 
> Next chapter will be Carol and Daryl checking out the little camp and tension may run high...


	15. Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Carol search the ruined camp and its surroundings. 
> 
> Daryl discovers something that causes his mind to immediately think the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Hope you're all doing okay with these awful spoilers that have been going around. At the moment, I'm just choosing to ignore their validity. Ignorance is bliss, right? 
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter, our team checks out the camp where Carol was held captive. You probably guessed this was coming, but Daryl is going to discover a lot and make his own assumptions based on what he finds. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Also, just so you know, I've decided to take fic requests, so if you have an idea, send me a pm.

Daryl moved with purpose into the camp with his bow up. It was odd that Carol had found this place. He had covered all of these woods when hunting the first time around and he had never spotted a single sign of another person. It was more evidence adding to what he had already begun to suspect: The more they changed things, the more the future would change around them. 

Carol thought this group was taken out before anyone at the quarry could encounter them, but Daryl thought differently. He almost fully believed that this group had not existed the first time around. At least not in this part of Georgia. If he tried to think too hard about it, it just made his head hurt. Time travel, for the little they knew about it, was extremely confusing. He shook his head and looked about the area, keeping his eyes peeled for any threats. 

His trek so far had been uneventful but you didn’t live as long and he and Carol had by not being cautious. As if on cue, he heard the tell-tale growling and shuffling. He clicked on the flashlight and, sure enough, up ahead there were two walkers ambling about. He lined up the first and released a bolt, striking it through the side of the head. 

The other—alerted by its partner being taken out—turned and took a few stumbling steps in his direction. He grabbed one of his knives and, as soon as it was within range, he shoved the blade up through the walker’s chin, impaling the brain. He wiped his knife off, replacing it in his belt and retrieved his bolt before continuing forward.

Entering the main area of the camp, the destruction became more apparent. Two of the tents were upturned and torn and items were littered on the ground. There were also bodies strewn about, some walkers and some not. It seemed obvious what had happened here. 

“Looks like a herd busted through,” he heard Carol’s voice from his left, reaching the same conclusion he had. 

Daryl turned and found her standing a few feet away. She was observing the scene with a calm expression. They were quite familiar with destruction like this, it was hardly a shock. Her flashlight scanned over the scene. She seemed to linger momentarily on one of the intact tents, but she moved the light away so quickly that he considered whether he had just been imagining it. 

“Yeah,” Daryl replied to Carol’s assessment. 

It wasn’t hard to conclude that a herd was responsible. There were sure signs of a short-lived battle. With his flashlight, he could make out a few bullet casings littering the forest floor. There were also abandoned weapons, including a few handguns and a couple knives. He studied the bodies once more. If he discounted the obvious walkers, it seemed accurate to say that this was the group Carol had been worried about. There seemed to be four fresh bodies among them, all men. That would equate to the number of tents in the camp, he reasoned. The group had likely returned only to face a herd and had ultimately failed in defending their camp. 

“We should check the area anyway,” Carol suggested. “Make sure the herd isn’t still around.” 

Daryl agreed with her idea. If there was a herd nearby, it wouldn’t be right to leave it roaming about, not this close to their camp. Especially when time and the universe couldn’t even be trusted. For all they knew, that herd could already be on its way to the quarry. 

“Alright,” he agreed. 

Daryl looked around. The campsite was situated in an almost circular clearing, surrounded by trees on every side. All in all, it was a stupid idea of a setup. These people clearly had not had a good grasp on survival. With their numbers, it would have been all too easy for them to be ambushed. It was a mistake they had paid for with their lives. 

“Let’s split up again. I’ll check this way,” he decided, pointing towards the right. By the light of their flashlights, he saw Carol nod. 

“Then I’ll head this way,” she said, pointing the opposite direction. 

Plan decided on, they separated. Daryl only took a few steps away before pausing in his trek, though. He turned his head, sensing something was wrong. He saw why quick enough. 

Carol seemed frozen in place, staring at one of the undisturbed tents. It was the same one he had seen her studying earlier. There was a strange expression on her face, like she was remembering something—something unpleasant. 

Daryl moved back towards her, feeling worry stir up. It reminded him of the time when she had been relying on those pills to keep her awake. She had been so out of it, seeing things that weren’t there. Daryl approached her but she didn’t even blink. Her eyes remained glued to that tent. 

“You okay?” he asked quietly, not wanting to startle her. 

His efforts were useless though, because she jumped as if he’d screamed in her ear. She whirled around with wide eyes, her flashlight beam darting about. It managed to hit him in the eyes and he squinted at the brightness before she directed it away. 

“Sorry,” she murmured with a sheepish expression. Daryl shook his head, trying to read her. 

“I’m the one that scared the shit out of you,” he said, negating her apology. “Should be me saying sorry.” 

Carol furrowed her brow and shook her head. 

“I just…” she said, trailing off and seeming to consider her words. “Got lost in thought,” she settled on. 

There seemed to be more to it than that, but she didn’t seem inclined to offer it up. Daryl eyed the tent she had been focused on. On the surface, it seemed perfectly ordinary: Green, waterproof fabric and pegs to hold it upright. He had a feeling looks were deceiving, though. Something about this tent had set her off. He looked back to her. 

“Something you wanna talk about?” he asked, inviting her to explain. He could already predict what her answer would be, but he had to try. 

“No,” she replied as he had expected. “Let’s just get this done.” 

Daryl sighed inwardly, but didn’t argue. She was shutting him out again. He had hoped that being back here, with the prospect of a new start, she would let her walls down again. Apparently, that was not the case. He watched her take a step away, but she paused and looked back at the tent. He followed her gaze, attempting to see what she saw to no avail. 

“What?” he asked. 

Her mouth twisted in displeasure and there was anxiety in her eyes as they met his. She seemed to war with herself for a long moment before she spoke. 

“Don’t look in that one.” 

Her voice trembled a little as she said it. Anyone else probably wouldn’t have picked up on it—it was incredibly subtle—but he did. He knew her voice and its inflections so well that he could detect the slightest change. He squinted at her, trying to read behind her mask. Unfortunately, if one person knew how to hide what they were thinking, it was Carol. 

“Why not?” he questioned. 

Open up to me, his mind chanted at her and for a moment, it looked like she might. Just as quickly, though, her mask slipped back in place. She shook her head and turned away. 

“Just don’t look,” she said before walking away. 

He watched her until she disappeared into the tree line. Inside, his mind was whirling. What the hell was in this tent that she was so determined to hide? The thing is, if she hadn’t made such a fuss about it, he wouldn’t have even considered looking in there. Her anxiety had clearly gotten the better of her, inadvertently raising his suspicions rather than quashing them. 

Daryl warred with it. On the one hand, he wanted to respect her wishes, but on the other, something was compelling him to look. Something had happened here— something she didn’t want him to know—and he knew it was something he probably should know. 

With a sigh of defeat, he pushed the flap aside and stepped into the tent. His flashlight illuminated the small space enough for him to see the body in the centre. It was still too dark to make out anything of note though. As he directed the light around, he spotted a lantern in the corner, along with a half-empty box of matches. He lit the lantern and the tent filled with a warm glow. When his eyes adjusted, he took in the scene with critical eyes. 

It was obvious the herd that had busted through camp had missed this tent. The body was intact. There were no signs of it being mauled or gnawed on at all. It was covered in blood though. He leaned closer and saw the wound in the dead man’s throat. It had been cut with a sharp object. 

Daryl remembered Carol mentioning her dagger, how she had grazed herself trying to conceal it. This had been her handy work. This was the body of the man that had taken her. He frowned as he observed it. It was no secret to him that Carol was deadly. He had seen her kill so many times over the years. So why had she been so determined to hide this? As his eyes travelled over the body, he started to understand her reluctance. 

The man’s pants were undone and his groin was completely on display. Daryl’s mind was immediately filled with the worst possibilities. He considered the evidence: Her insistence that he didn’t look in the tent, those bruises on her neck, this dead man with his pants undone. If what he was fearing was true, she absolutely would have tried to hide it from him. She wouldn’t have wanted him to worry about her. 

His emotions started to overwhelm him. Concern, fear and rage seemed to be the major ones. The rage wasn’t directed at her, of course. It was directed at this man, who was already dead, for what he had likely done to Carol. Knowing it was illogical, he found himself levelling a hard kick to the corpse. It flopped uselessly before lying still once more.   
Daryl left the tent, still feeling keyed up. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to resurrect that bastard so he could kill him all over again. He had a job to do though and Carol was nowhere in sight for a discussion, so he shoved his feelings down and forced himself to check the opposite tree line.

He didn’t encounter the herd, though he did come across two more walkers. He took them out easily. Afterwards, he spotted the tell-tale sign of dragging footsteps leading away from the area. The herd had moved on and in the opposite direction of the quarry. Satisfied with his discovery, he doubled back. Breaching the tree line once more, he spotted Carol already waiting in the centre of the camp. 

“Found a couple of straggler walkers,” Carol said as he approached. “Herd seems to be gone though. This probably happened the first time around.” 

Daryl couldn’t have answered her if he tried right now. He was too busy trying to stamp down on the questions that wanted to come tumbling from his mouth. He watched her frown at him, likely sensing that something was wrong. 

“You okay?” she asked in concern. “You run into some trouble?” 

Knowing he was just making her worry, he made an effort to un-stick his mouth. 

“Didn’t find nothin’ but a few walkers, same as you,” he said and he could hear how rough his voice sounded. “Saw the trail too. Herd’s gone. Headed back to the city.” 

Carol’s shoulders lost their tenseness and she blew out a breath of air. There was still a furrow in her brow, though as she looked at him. Carol being Carol, she knew that there was still something eating at him. 

“What’s wrong then?” she asked. 

He didn’t know why, but that question seemed to be the catalyst to let what he’d been holding back, out. 

“What the hell happened here last night?” he growled, wincing at his own voice. He hadn’t meant to sound as angry as he did. He wasn’t angry, he was just overwhelmed. The whole walk back to the camp, his mind had been filled with horrifying images of Carol suffering in unmentionable ways. Carol blinked in surprise—probably at his tone—and her mouth opened and closed a few times. 

“I… What?” she finally said. “I told you what happened.” 

Daryl bristled at her offhand manner. He started pacing back and forth. His emotions were getting the better of him, but he didn’t know how to stop it. It was probably unwise to let them run their course but he was powerless to control them. 

“Yeah, well, seems to be a lot missin’ from what the hell you told me,” he replied, not really looking at her as he moved. 

“There’s nothing to tell,” she retorted in a hard voice. Daryl scoffed and paused his pacing to face her properly. 

“The hell there ain’t!” he growled. “I saw that damned body. That ain’t nothing.” 

Carol’s eyes hardened. She was angry now. He hadn’t meant it to turn into this. He wasn’t even angry. Really, he wasn’t. For some reason that was how it was coming out though, and now, he’d managed to piss her off too. 

“I told you not to look!” she growled at him with accusing eyes. 

Daryl huffed at that. 

“Of course I was gonna look!” he replied heatedly. “You were too damned determined for me not to. As if I wouldn’t know you were tryin’ to hide something!” 

Carol crossed her arms and shook her head as she glared at him. 

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” she argued. “You just didn’t need to know!” 

Daryl knew this was stupid, standing in the middle of the woods, shouting at each other. But he couldn’t stop it from happening even if he wanted to. It had gone too far to go back now. 

“Of course, I needed to know!” he argued incredulously. “If someone hurt you, I wanna know about it!” 

She made a noise of frustration. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. It was probably the only thing stopping her from hitting him right now. He wouldn’t have blamed her, honestly. 

“He didn’t hurt me!” 

Daryl scoffed. 

“Ain’t what it looks like,” he muttered. 

“He barely touched me!” she insisted. 

Daryl paused to scrutinise her. She didn’t sound like she was lying, but he knew how good she was at it. If she was telling the truth though, why had she been so determined for him not to see that body? 

“Then why the hell didn’t you want me lookin’ in that tent?” he growled, taking a step closer to her, challenging her. 

“Because I didn’t want you to think I’m a monster!” she yelled. 

He flinched at the grating sound of her voice, before frowning. That was what she’d been worried about? That he would think she was a monster? He knew she’d killed before. He’d seen her do it. Why would he think she was a monster for killing some bastard that had been trying to hurt her? Something wasn’t adding up here. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and her eyes were wide and shocked. She hadn’t meant to say what she did, he realised. The heat of the moment had made it escape her. He swallowed and found that her outburst had managed to calm him a little. 

“Why would I think you’re a monster?” he asked, not willing to let the subject go. “You killed someone that was trying to hurt you. Ain’t gonna fault you for that.” 

Carol blew out a breath and shifted. She brought her arms around herself. It was a self-conscious move and for the first time in a long while, she resembled her past self. She seemed to be trying to shrink into herself, to make herself smaller. It was stark difference to the strong woman he knew her to be. 

“It’s not that I killed him, Daryl,” she said in a strained voice. “It’s the way I killed him.”

Daryl considered that. He’d seen the knife wound and the man’s pants undone, but he was missing a lot of the picture. He had just jumped to his own conclusions. He felt a little stupid now for just assuming she had been raped. Perhaps things hadn’t gone down like that at all. Instead of replying to her words, he couldn’t help the question that escaped him. 

“He didn’t force you?” 

He heard the vulnerability and fear in his own voice and winced. Carol frowned at the question but soon her face softened. 

“No, he didn’t,” she replied with such sincerity that he didn’t doubt her. 

Her words brought more relief than she probably realised. He had been so sure she had been violated and his outrage on her behalf had clouded everything else. He could feel a lot of the tension leaving him. Now that he had the confirmation that his fears were unfounded, he felt like he could think clearer. His curiosity took hold. 

“What happened?” he asked and the difference in his tone was evident. 

He thought that she might protest telling him anything. After how he had acted only moments ago, he wouldn’t blame her. He had acted like a hardheaded idiot and she had every right to shut down on him. If she did, he would let it go. He was about to tell her this, when she spoke. 

“I knew what he wanted with me. I knew the whole time I was here. So while he made his ridiculous attempts at charm, I waited for my moment,” Carol explained. “I kept buttering him up. Played it up like I was lost and was grateful to have run into him. And he ate it all up.” 

Daryl huffed, unable to help his amusement. He didn’t doubt this guy had bought what she’d been selling. She could change personas with a snap of her fingers. It had disturbed him at first but with time, he came to see it as one of her strengths. 

“Of course, he did. You’re the best actress I’ve ever met,” he said. “Should find you one of them Oscars or something,” he added, trying to bring some levity to the moment. It worked because she let out a little chuckle and there was genuine humour in her eyes. 

“Daryl, being good at pretending and lying isn’t something to be proud of. Not the way I do it,” she said betraying the half smile she still wore. 

“Why the hell not?” he argued. “It’s kept you alive, hasn’t it?” 

“It has,” she confirmed needlessly. 

Daryl nodded with a satisfied look. 

“There you go, then. Best actress goes to Carol,” he said with only a hint of teasing. “I’ll make sure your trophy’s on the list for runs.” 

Carol snorted but her smile appeared more genuine. There even seemed to be tears glittering in her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

He dipped his head and returned her smile with a lift of his lips. He knew what she meant: ‘Thank you for not thinking I’m awful for being so good at lying.’ He hadn’t realised she was still feeling conflicted about that. He would have to do better with reassuring her from now on. 

“Don’t gotta thank me,” he said. “Only sayin’ what’s true.” 

Carol nodded and tugged on the hem of her jacket. 

“Do you want to hear the rest?” she asked with a wariness that betrayed her fears. 

Daryl chewed his lip. Part of him did still want to know, but he wouldn’t push for it this time. He’d leave it up to her. 

“Only if you want to tell me.” 

Carol seemed to think for a long moment. He waited her out, content with whatever she decided. 

“As soon as he wanted to move things to the tent, I knew it was time,” she finally said. “So, I played along. Acted like I was into it,” she explained with a meaningful look, clearly trying to convey what she didn’t want to say aloud. 

Daryl understood what she hadn’t been able to voice. In her attempt to lower suspicion, she had let this man touch her, had acted like she enjoyed it. He couldn’t help wincing a little as images flashed before him. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help the jealousy that burned in him. He forced the feelings away and thankfully, Carol didn’t seem to notice. 

“When he was distracted getting his pants undone, I grabbed my dagger from my boot and hid it under my thigh,” she said. “That’s how I got the graze. At that point, I didn’t have my shirt on or my pants, so I had nowhere else to hide it,” she added with a wince. 

While the image of a half naked Carol would usually get his heart racing, in this instance it just made his stomach roll. He must have made a face because she was quickly apologising. She seemed to misunderstand his reaction though. 

“Sorry, I know you don’t want to think of me like that,” she said with a blush. 

If only she knew, he thought to himself. He had been tormented with thoughts of her naked for nearly ten years. He couldn’t tell her that, of course. She would be outraged for one thing. It would horrify her to find out that her best friend thought of her in such a way. For all her teasing, he knew she never really meant any of the flirting she subjected him to. 

“It’s alright,” he assured her. 

She took a breath before continuing. 

“After that, I waited for my moment and slit his throat,” she said with a shrug. “It wasn’t much more complicated than that.”

He frowned. 

“And you thought I’d think you were a monster ‘cause of that?” he asked, not understanding. He had honestly expected something much worse with how stressed out she’d been about it. She frowned. 

“I seduced a man just to kill him,” she said, as if that would help him understand. 

Daryl shrugged. Did she think that would change his opinion of her? She’d done what she had to, used what she knew she could to get herself out of a shit situation. There was no way he could fault her for that. 

“So?” he asked. Carol’s frown deepened. 

“Good people don’t do things like that.” 

Daryl sighed. Damned if that wasn’t a loaded subject: Good and evil. He’d had to morph his understanding of them over the years. After a while, he reached a point mentally where he felt he could differentiate between them. Apparently, Carol still struggled with it. 

“Never thought we were good people,” he replied warily. “After this many years, I think we’ve all done shit that good people ain’t ‘sposed to do. It don’t make us bad people, though. We’ve met plenty of those,” he added, thinking of people like Alpha, Negan and The Governor. 

Carol seemed to consider his words deeply. He closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. She met his gaze hesitantly. 

“You ain’t a bad person,” he told her firmly, willing her to believe it. “You may not be a good person, hell, neither am I, but you ain’t bad.” 

She sucked in a breath and let it out heavily. She dipped her head once. His lips lifted a little at her acceptance. He pulled her towards him and she didn’t protest the hug. She settled her hands on his shoulder blades while her face pressed against his chest. 

His hand itched to feel her soft curls and he didn’t resist the urge. He settled his hand on the back of her head and massaged gently. She let out a soft sigh. It sounded contented. When they broke apart, they smiled at each other. 

“Come on, we should get back,” he said. “There ain’t nothing else to find here.” 

Carol nodded in agreement and let him lead the way back to camp. They didn’t talk much on the way back, but it wasn’t uncomfortable and heavy like it had been on the way. The tension that had accompanied them earlier had dissipated and Daryl was more than thankful for it. He knew they would clash again—probably very soon—until then, he was content to enjoy them being on the same page once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this. Sorry for the fight. I know it's not the kind of thing carylers want right now but I had it written way before the spoilers came out. At least I resolved it quickly though. I have a feeling the show won't be as merciful. 
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


	16. Moving Forwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol and Daryl continue biding their time in camp. Daryl has a conversation he didn't expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> Sorry for the wait for this chapter. I was a bit overwhelmed because I've started back at university. I'm not giving up on this story but the updates might be erratic. I have more responsibilities to juggle now and I don't fare well under pressure. I'm going to do my best though. I hope you'll forgive me if there are times when updating slows.

Carol awoke feeling more rested than she had in a good while. The shame she had been nursing since she had killed John had mostly ebbed with Daryl’s lack of judgement, leaving a feeling of justification. He was right. Torturing herself over something that was necessary was pointless. She stretched a little, being careful not to accidently knee or elbow Daryl, who seemed to still be sleeping.

They had both clambered into the sleeping bag once more almost as soon as they had returned last night. They had been too tired to say much of anything other than a ‘goodnight’. As soon as she had her face pressed into his chest, it hadn’t taken long for her to drop off. His scent always had a calming effect on her.

She was tempted to settle down and sleep some more, but her ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps outside the tent. She frowned and listened closely. It was reasonable to think that it could just be someone headed off to the main camp for breakfast, but the footsteps didn’t seem to be moving away. On the contrary, they seemed to be approaching.

Carol gave a huff of annoyance and sat up. She was more than a little miffed to be disturbed. She had been feeling warm and cozy only moments ago. She heard Daryl make a sleepy groan beside her before she felt him sitting up too. He always was a light sleeper. The time travelling had messed with his sleeping patterns though, so he had been sleeping a lot deeper than he normally would.

“You okay?” he asked in a gravelly voice that made her shiver.

“We’ve got company,” she replied, ignoring her body’s reaction.

She turned her head to regard him and he was looking at the entrance of the tent with a frown. He pushed at the sleeping bag, starting to climb out. He still wore the clothes from the night before and, as always, his boots were still on his feet.

“It’s probably just **Carol** ,” he said, voice still rough.

Carol scoffed at that. It was a likely assumption. Her past self certainly seemed inclined to follow Daryl around like a lost puppy. Carol didn’t understand it. He had been here barely a few days and **Carol** seemed to be trying to attach herself to him by the hip. It rankled something in her that resembled jealousy. It wasn’t jealousy, though. That’s what she tried to tell herself at least.

“Well, maybe you can tell her that you’re more than capable of fending for yourself,” Carol commented, unable to keep her displeasure from her voice.

Daryl didn’t reply and she figured he was deliberately ignoring her acidic tone. She knew he disapproved of her attitude towards her past self, but she couldn’t help it. She had spent so many years looking back on her memories of being that woman and cursing her. To actually be face to face with her was surreal and part of Carol just wanted to grab her past self and scream in her face. The only thing stopping her from doing so was Daryl.

Carol watched him get to his feet and approach the flap that obscured them from the outside world. He pushed it aside and though he stood in the way, she caught a brief glimpse of the woman standing there. She snorted to herself and shook her head. Her past self certainly had some nerve to show up here after the other night. She hadn’t missed the fear in the younger woman’s eyes.

Carol crawled out of the sleeping bag and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a long drink. Once her throat no longer felt like sandpaper, she took a seat on one of the milk crates. Her ears tuned into the conversation happening just outside.

“Good morning,” she heard her own voice say, though with a shyness that she no longer possessed.

“Hey,” Daryl replied, and because she knew his voice so well, she could tell he was smiling.

Carol sighed and crossed her arms. He probably loved having her past self around. He probably hoped he could get his friend back—the one that wasn’t ruined by all the bullshit life had presented her. That woman wouldn’t have lied to him and ignored him to pursue selfish revenge.

The bitter thoughts continued to build and she tried to fight them, but it was difficult. Part of her still wondered why he even put up with her anymore. She was far from the woman he had grown close to at the farm and even farther from the friend she had become at the prison. She was a shell of herself and she knew it. She suspected he did too.

“I felt bad about last night,” she heard **Carol** say, breaking Carol from her morose thoughts. “So I brought you some breakfast.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said in a gruff but kind voice. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was no trouble,” **Carol** replied. “We always have extra and if you don’t have it, Ed’ll just claim it for himself.”

Carol watched Daryl’s head dip in a nod from behind. He didn’t reply to her words and she guessed it was because he didn’t know how to respond. Her casual mention of Ed probably didn’t sit well with him either. She knew more than anyone how much he loathed the man. He had told her so, many times over the years.

She shifted on the crate, trying to find a more comfortable position. The plastic creaked and Daryl’s head turned to look at her. There was an apprehension in his eyes and she knew it was because of who he was talking to.

As annoyed as she was by her past self’s presence, she didn’t want to hurt Daryl. It wasn’t his fault that she had issues surrounding the woman. So, she gave him a smile, trying to tell him that it was okay. His eyes lightened and his lips lifted in a half-smile. Her heart ached at the sight. He turned back to their intruder a moment later.

“Listen, we appreciate you bringing us food like this, but you don’t gotta,” he said carefully. It was definitely kinder than she would have worded it. “I got legs. I can walk to camp and get us somethin’.” 

“I told you, it’s not a problem,” **Carol** said, though her tone had deflated a little. It wasn’t surprising. Back then, the smallest thing could shatter her confidence.

“Maybe not yet, but you know it’s gonna be a problem if he finds out,” Daryl said. There was no need to say the name to spell out who he meant. “I don’t want you risking yourself like that. I mean it, I can take care of food for us.”

“I’m sorry,” she heard **Carol** say. “I just… I don’t know how else to thank you for what you did.”

“Don’t gotta thank me,” Daryl said, shifting a little.

She knew he was uncomfortable as he always was in the face of gratitude. He had gotten better over the years, but it still seemed to sit oddly with him. Through the sliver of space between Daryl’s body and the material of the tent, she could see **Carol** nod sheepishly before turning to leave.

“Hey!” Daryl called. “Thanks for breakfast. We appreciate it.”

 **Carol** had moved too far away for Carol to see her reaction, but it wasn’t hard to imagine her smile. As annoyed as she was, Carol couldn’t blame her past self for being charmed by Daryl. He was so sweet and caring that you wanted to do everything in your power to please him.

She watched Daryl move back into the shelter of the tent, this time carrying two bowls. Carol was a little surprised that her past self had brought some for her after their encounter last night. Then again, it was probably an attempt to make a better impression on her. She took the bowl from him wordlessly. It contained porridge with some berries and **Carol** had provided them both with a spoon each. Daryl occupied the other milk crate silently. They didn’t make conversation as they ate. 

“Gonna go up to the camp and see what’s going on,” Daryl announced after they finished eating. “You gonna be okay here?” he added as he got to his feet.

Carol inwardly luxuriated in his concern. She got so worried sometimes that she would lose him that the subtle reminders that he was still on her side felt like rewards. She smiled at him.

“I’ll be fine. Plenty of arrows and bolts to make,” she said. “I’d appreciate a book if you can scrounge one up, though,” she added. That would break up the monotony of crafting at least. 

Daryl nodded in agreement. He moved away but then paused. There was a familiar look of apprehension in his eyes when he glanced back at her. She waited, knowing he had something to say.

“I could see if **Carol** would come visit you,” he offered carefully. “You’d have someone to talk to at least.”

Carol sighed. She appreciated his effort and his gall. It was ballsy to even suggest it to her after how she had already behaved towards her past self. She knew he was trying to heal this rift between her and **Carol** , but the idea of willingly spending time with that woman turned her stomach. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a tighter smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Daryl sighed, not looking pleased by her response.

“What’s with you about her?” he asked with clear frustration in his voice.

Carol looked away and studied her hands. There was a smudge of dirt on her thumb and she starting rubbing at it to wipe it away. 

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it,” she told him evasively. 

She didn’t want to tell him because then he’ll be even more unhappy with her. The best thing—or worst, depending on how you looked at it—was that Daryl being Daryl, he didn’t push. He just sighed once more and nodded. He turned away from her.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll be back later. I’ll bring you somethin’ for lunch.”

With that, he left the tent, leaving her alone with her ever-worsening guilt.

\---

Daryl marched up to the main camp with purposeful strides. As much as he wondered about Carol’s strange reaction to her past self, he wasn’t going to drag it out of her. There was plenty of shit he still didn’t want to talk about, so he got it. It didn’t stop him being frustrated though. **Carol** had done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve to be treated so scornfully. He shook his head, pushing his concerns about the two Carol’s aside for now. He passed a few campers along the way and he was pleased to note that they didn’t look at him as fearfully. He offered them nods of greeting and even exchanged a few ‘good mornings’.

The queen of camp, Lori, was a different story though. As soon as he stepped into the central area of the camp, she tugged Carl to her side and shot daggers at him with her dark eyes. He ignored it while huffing inwardly. He understood her fear, but damn the woman was dramatic sometimes. Did she really expect him to attack her son, right here in the middle of camp?

He turned away from the infuriating woman and was about to go to Dale’s RV for a book for Carol, when someone short with blonde hair stepped into his path. He looked her over curiously. There was a look of fear on her face but it was overshadowed by determination.

“H… Hi,” Sophia said, stumbling over the word momentarily. Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest in an almost perfect imitation of her mother.

“Hey,” he replied, softening his voice to put her at ease. He tried to plant a friendly expression on his face and prayed it would obey for once.

Sophia’s hazel eyes ran over him, seeming to assess everything. He had to fight not to shift under the weight of her stare. For someone so little and quiet, there seemed to be a strength hiding within her. She’d probably always had it in her, but he hadn’t paid enough attention to her the first time to notice.

“Everythin’ alright?” he asked.

“You’re friends with my mom, aren’t you?” she asked instead of answering his question.

He blinked at that before considering it. He supposed they were friends even though they had only (technically) met a few days ago. **Carol** certainly seemed to enjoy his company so far. He wondered how Sophia knew, though. He didn’t doubt **Carol** had kept the secret of his true identity, even from her daughter.

“Yeah, I am,” he confirmed. “How’d you know?” he asked, unable to fight his curiosity.

“Mama told me,” Sophia replied simply. “She said you were a nice man and that if I needed help, I could come to you.”

Daryl was only a little surprised by that. He could already tell **Carol** trusted him. It stood to reason that she would trust him around Sophia too.

“She was right,” he confirmed again. “Is that why you’re here now? You need some help?” he asked, feeling a jolt of worry.

His eyes darted about the area, looking for her deadbeat father—that was the only cause for concern he could imagine, other than walkers of course—but Ed wasn’t in sight.

“No,” she replied shyly, toeing the ground with her shoe. “I was just curious.”

“About what?” he asked.

He noticed that her eyes kept darting to his hands that rested at his sides. He brought them forward and saw the bandages covering them. He had tended to his busted knuckles—that he had earned from his encounter with Ed—before settling into the sleeping bag last night.

“It was you who hit my daddy, wasn’t it?” Sophia asked. Her curious eyes looked up at him innocently.

Daryl wondered how he should answer that. Over the years, he had grown used to talking to kids. He found he was even good at it, but those kids were different. They were used to violence and roughness. Some of them had grown up with it. Sophia was different. Sure, she had likely seen some of what Ed had done to Carol, but Daryl knew, from Carol’s own words, that she had shielded most of it from her when she could. Would Sophia fear him if he told her the truth? He didn’t want that, but he didn’t want to lie to her either.

“I did,” he admitted hesitantly. He waited for the fear to come, but she didn’t look afraid. She just looked sad.

“He was hurting Mama?” she asked with tears welling in her eyes.

Daryl simply nodded. Perhaps she had seen more than even Carol realised. This was the longest conversation Daryl had ever had with her, but Sophia was proving to be a lot wiser than he had given her credit for. It wasn’t her words, it was her eyes. They seemed older than she was.

He supposed he had probably looked the same when he was her age. Maybe more so, because as far as he knew, Ed had never raised a hand to Sophia. That didn’t mean he didn’t traumatise her though. It wasn’t just fists that could cause damage, after all. He watched Sophia reach a hand up and wipe at her eyes, even though the tears had yet to spill over.

“Thank you for helping her,” she said once she had sufficiently wiped her face.

Daryl opened and closed his mouth before shutting it firmly and swallowing. He never would have expected to be thanked by Sophia of all people. He still carried the weight of failure over not finding her, even after all these years.

He felt like he didn’t deserve her gratitude and part of him wanted to drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness instead. He wouldn’t do that, of course. For one thing, it would undoubtedly terrify the girl. Choosing the safe option, he nodded, unable to think of any other way of responding.

“Why’d you do it?” Sophia asked next.

“What d’you mean why?” he asked back with a frown.

Sophia’s eyes darted away to glance around at the other people milling about, going through their day. A frown pulled at her brow. He had feeling he knew what she was about to say.

“None of the other’s do anything,” she said, once she was looking at him again. “They just pretend it doesn’t happen.”

Daryl sighed. He had been right. Once more, he was filled with guilt over not doing anything the first time and not for the first time did he wish he had put a bolt in Ed Peletier. Maybe he would eventually get an opportunity to rectify that.

“I know, kid,” he said. He heard the guilt in his own voice. “I did it ‘cause she needed help and I wanted to help her,” he told her.

Sophia’s frown smoothed out and the waterworks she had displayed only moments, ago seemed to disappear. She even seemed to smile a little at him. He wasn’t usually too sappy of a person but he had to admit, something warmed in him at the sight. He watched her open her mouth, presumably to say something else, but she never got the chance.

“Sophia!” came a harried, familiar voice.

Daryl huffed and prayed for strength as the brunette form of Lori Grimes appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. She immediately tugged Sophia away from him to stand behind her. Lori glared at him with hard brown eyes but he could see the obvious fear behind it all. He hadn’t seen it too often but this was Lori’s ‘mama-bear’ persona.

“You stay away from her!” she spat at him venomously.

Daryl sighed. He knew he had to be careful about how he handled this. One wrong move or word and Lori could talk Shane into kicking him out. He wouldn’t blame Shane for agreeing just to shut her up, to be honest. He held his hands out in front of himself, trying to show he wasn’t a threat.

“Look, she came up to me,” he explained. “We were just talking.”

Lori’s eyes narrowed.

“There is no reason for her to talk to you.”

“Miss Lori…” Sophia said, trying to manoeuvre herself out from behind the woman.

Daryl was surprised the girl was trying to speak up for herself. Despite the strength he had seen in her, he knew it was something she never let out on the surface. She was quiet, purposefully so, and never raised her voice.

Whatever she was going to say, he never knew because Lori didn’t give her a chance. She turned around and took hold of Sophia’s hand. She started marching away, dragging Sophia along with her. Sophia seemed to be trying to escape her hold but she was clearly too weak to succeed.

“Miss Lori, he wasn’t doing anything,” he barely heard Sophia complain. As always, she had kept her voice incredibly soft. 

“You stay away from him, sweetheart,” Lori replied in a stern voice with a glare over her shoulder at him.

“But he’s friends with my mom,” Sophia protested again just as softly but no less insistent.

Lori apparently wasn’t going to even consider that as she resolutely led Sophia away. The little girl stopped fighting back, but she did look back over at him and smiled shyly. He gave her a nod and a half-smile in return, silently telling her that it was okay.

Once they were out of sight, he shook his head. Lori was going to be a problem going forward. She was too untrusting and too set in her view of the world to even consider that he might not be the villain she had already painted him as. She probably saw him as just another Merle. He knew that was how she had seen him the first time around.

Over time, her view of him had softened, but they had never became friends or close in any way. He hoped he could figure out a way to change that—not because he was eager to become her buddy—but because she was the mother of two amazing children and he felt, for their sake, he should try to get to know her.

Daryl approached the RV, deciding to focus on something simple for now. Dale was not on top this time. Instead, Jim was sitting in the camp chair with the rifle on his lap. He looked alert and vigilant and his eyes were clear.

“Hey!” he called up at the man.

Jim looked confused for a moment before he noticed where the voice had come from. He stood and approached the edge of the vehicle. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Uh, hey,” he replied pleasantly enough. “What can I do for you?”

It was odd for Daryl to see him like this. Before those last few days at the quarry, Daryl had never really interacted with the man at all. In Daryl’s mind, the only way he had known Jim was as the raving, dying man they had left on the side of the road. This Jim was completely lucid and sound of mind. Daryl genuinely hoped he could stay that way.

“You seen Dale?” Daryl asked. He would rather get Dale’s permission before pilfering his supply of books.

“Oh,” Jim replied. “Yeah, he’s inside.”

Daryl nodded, thanking him before entering the RV. His eyes took a moment to adjust from the bright sun to the slightly duller light inside. When they did, he noticed the old man sitting at the table in the centre of the RV. He had a book open in front of him. His head lifted and a pleasant smile appeared on his face.

“Hi,” Dale greeted. “Norman, wasn’t it?”

Daryl winced inside at the name but nodded. He couldn’t wait to cast off the false identity. Whenever he heard it, there was a part of him—the teenage part of him that he had worked hard to forget—that felt the need to look for his Pop. He wished he had picked another name. Why couldn’t he have just picked something simple, like Bob? He laughed inwardly at the thought of someone walking around called ‘Bob Dixon’. It sounded ridiculous. He shook off the stupid thoughts and focused on the man in front of him. 

“You need something?” Dale asked.

Daryl chewed his lip. It was still so strange to talk to the man after witnessing and causing his death. He knew it had been something that needed to be done, but part of Daryl felt like he should apologise still. He was sound of mind enough to know that he couldn’t actually do that. Not without giving everything away.

“Wanted to ask if I could borrow a book? Heard you got a few.”

Dale brightened and stood from his seat.

“A book, I can do,” he said, wandering about the RV in search of the books. “Can’t exactly guarantee the quality, unfortunately. Didn’t have time to pick and choose when I was getting packed up.”

Daryl remembered the mystery novel Andrea had given him after she had shot him. It had been shit, to be honest, so he understood what Dale meant. Still, there should be something to keep Carol from dying of boredom. He watched as Dale placed a box on the table. It was quite large and filled to the brim with books.

“There you go,” Dale said, waving his hand at it. “Take your pick.”

Daryl approached the box and started pulling the paperbacks out. He knew he could just grab a random one and go, but he wanted to at least try to get something good for Carol. If it was as bad as the book he had read back then, she’d honestly be better off sticking to crafting arrows.

There were a lot of mystery novels—it seemed like Dale must be a fan of those—a few classics that he recognised from school—he had hated studying Wuthering Heights but he had actually read the whole thing—and strangely enough, romance novels.

Daryl pulled one out and examined it’s cover. On it, there was a man and a woman, They were locked in a passionate embrace and were wearing Victorian-type clothes. The tile was ‘Inheritance of Passion’. Daryl snorted quietly. He knew what these books were like: Cheesy porn with loose storylines.

“Oh, uh,” Dale said in a slightly nervous tone from over Daryl’s shoulder. “That was one of Irma’s. My wife. She used to love those romance novels. Didn’t mean to pack them, but like I said, I was in a hurry.”

Daryl understood Dale’s reaction. Men were not usually the type to read these books. They were aimed at women generally, so Dale clearly felt the need to explain. Dale was lucky he wasn’t like Merle. His brother certainly would have given the man shit for it.

“I’ll take this one,” Daryl said, waving the ridiculous novel a little. He knew someone who would appreciate it.

Dale blinked and looked from him, to the book, and back again.

“Are you sure, son?” Dale asked. “I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Daryl had to make a concentrated effort not to laugh or blush. He didn’t really enjoy giving off the impression that he would be the one reading the book, but he knew Carol would probably want to. He had seen a fair few of those cheesy novels in the little house she had been staying at outside the Kingdom. He didn’t see the appeal, but to appease Carol, he would suffer a little embarrassment.

“I’m good with this one,” he said. “’Least it won’t be boring.”

Dale considered that before inclining his head in agreement.

“Well, alright then,” Dale said, still sounding unsure. “You can come back and swap it out if you want later.”

He nodded to ease the old man’s worries.

“Thanks,” Daryl said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one. If you read the first version of this story, you can probably tell I adapted the conversation between Daryl and Sophia in this chapter from a similar conversation they had in the original version. I plan to do that throughout this story; adapt pieces that I had written in the original. They just may show up out of order or may be tweaked a little.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> For people who chose not to read:
> 
> Basically, Daryl tries to help Carol back onto the ledge. She gets bitten while Daryl is holding her and eventually she lets go of his hand and falls into the pit of walkers. Daryl has no choice but to leave her behind. 
> 
> I'm uploading this pretty late at night. It looks okay to me at the moment but I'll read over it tomorrow just in case I left any typos or anything in. If you read this when this first gets posted, I hope I didn't leave anything too confusing in. 
> 
> Thanks guys!


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